Now that I am no longer working at Time for Gravy across from campus, I am pursuing my theatrical studies and have fallen into a steady routine. I managed to break away from that routine this past weekend though. My friend Ross’s wedding took place in Parker Colorado, right outside of Denver this past Friday and at the last minute I decided that would skip my classes and go. Not only was my friend’s wedding on Friday but also my older brother’s 25th birthday was on that following Saturday, and I’d be a monkey’s uncle if my brother doesn’t just so happen to live in Denver as well. I figured that I would be killing two birds with one stone by going to Denver for the weekend and so I went.
Ron and Connie, my parents, insisted that I drive their car to Denver instead of my own. I tried to argue otherwise because I love my precious Malibu almost as much as I love pornography and it is equally hard to pull me away from it. I agreed and reluctantly swapped my gorgeous and finely tuned 2005 Chevy Malibu with my parents’ rickety and less visually appealing 2012 Chevy Malibu for my drive to Denver.
I put tire to the pavement at around 10:30AM and was feeling relaxed and comfortable as I switched between NPR and Rush Limbaugh on the radio by 11:00AM. NPR was playing classical music and I cannot listen to that shit, and Rush Limbaugh is a cock smuggling fat ass but it was the only political talk show on the radio at that time so I listened to it anyway. Now, I lived in Denver for four years so I never need a map or anything to get there and back and it’s normally a five hour drive unless I get pulled over for speeding.
By the time that I hit North Platte in Western Nebraska I was feeling groggy and my head felt weighed down with poop from all of the bullshit coming out of Rush Limbaugh’s mouth. So I pulled over at The Flying J for some coffee and gas. I bought a 32oz cup/ sand bucket of The Flying J’s special blend coffee along with some ridiculously overpriced beef jerky. I got back onto the interstate and took my first sip of coffee. This coffee was horrible. It tasted like alcohol-free Jack Daniels or maybe piss with an electric current run through it because of the shocking nip it had after every sip. However, The Flying J’s special blend is a mix of coffee beans, methamphetamine, and bath salts and that makes up for the evil flavor. Also, I had and entire 32oz of this shit to drink! If my parents’ rusted out 2012 Malibu were to break down on the interstate then I would have the strength to carry it the rest of the way to Denver.
I was just outside of Denver near Keenesburg when the coffee hit my bladder something fierce. I pulled over at a small gas station near a creepy motel called the Baron Motel. I ran inside the gas station and as I was entering an old man went inside the bathroom and locked the door. I paced around the gas station and looked at all of the weird Chinese toys and gas station food to take my mind off of my struggle to not piss my pants. There was a little Asian lady working at the counter. My guess is that she was in her late thirties but with Asian people it is impossible to guess their age unless they are toddlers or very elderly. This lady could have been anywhere between the ages of 20 and 65 and I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear any of those numbers if I had asked her age. She smiled at me and I smiled back and then a very unusual and awesome conversation took place, which ultimately ended with me purchasing an ancient weapon of death. Here is the conversation that took place. I will refer to myself as Me and refer to the Asian lady as 亚洲母狗.
Me: “Oh, uh, hello. How are you today?”
亚洲母狗: “Oohh, vaywy good, vaywy good. You fwom Denvow?”
Me: “No, I’m just going to Denver for my brother’s birthday.”
亚洲母狗: “Good, good. Have you bawh him pwesent?”
Me: “No I haven’t. I’m not sure what to get him so I figured I would just buy him
something when I get there.”
亚洲母狗: “Whaw do he rike?”
Me: “He designs websites and he likes computer stuff, but I’ll probably just get him some
clothes or something.”
亚洲母狗: “Do he correct sword?” (Conversation just got interesting)
Me: “You know what? It’s funny you asked that because yes, he does collect swords.”
(A light goes on in 亚洲母狗’s eyes and she reaches under the counter and comes back up with two samurai swords and sets them on the counter. These swords are amazing but the cheapest one is $200 and I’m not spending that kind of money at a gas station unless a hooker is involved.)
Me: “Whoa! These are great! But I can’t spend $200 on him. Sorry.”
(I hold one of the swords in my hand and look at the blade. It feels sort of cheap but although it’s no Hattori Hanzo sword, I want it bad. 亚洲母狗 puts the swords back under the counter and comes back up with a very large cardboard box. On the side of the box in big red letters it reads, 哟口大迪克斯NINJA DAGGERS? 哟健康是不好的. She pulls out a few smaller boxes from the big box and opens them in front of me. Despite the lack of certainty printed on the box, they are in fact ninja daggers.)
亚洲母狗: “Maybe you rike dees instay.”
Me: “Oh my God. These are awesome!” (The cheapest one is $85. It has a dragonhead for the handle and the curvy blade is supposed to be the tail. But it’s 85 fucking dollars.)
Me: “I like this one but I really can’t pay that much.”
亚洲母狗: “I giff it you fow sisty dowra.”
亚洲母狗: “Okay, I giff it you fo fitty dowra.”
亚洲母狗: “Oooohh, buh you say fitty dowra. I no go cheapa.”
Me: “Thirty dollars and I’m sold.”
亚洲母狗: “You robby me! You robby me! I no can serr for tirty dowra! …Okay… Okay. I giff it you fo tirty dowra.”
I happily paid for the ninja dagger and left it at the counter while I made dick water in the men’s room. She handed me my newly purchased weapon and asked:
亚洲母狗: “You tink yow brutta rike?”
Me: “Are you kidding me, he’s going to love it! This will be the best deadly weapon in his entire collection.”
亚洲母狗: “How ord is you brutta goink to be?”
(I smile and walk out the door.)
My brother has never worked at a county fair nor does he listen to Metallica, and he’s married with a career, so he has no interest in collecting swords and knives. He thought the knife was kind of cool but I don’t think he fully realized that the story behind it is what made the present so amazing.
In the end, after driving to my brother’s house and placing all of my belongings into my brother’s guest bedroom I decided not to attend the wedding. My one and a half year old nephew, Liam, pulled me outside to play with him and I chose to stay and spend time with my nephew rather than get drunk with my old friends at a wedding. I’ve already apologized to my friend Ross and he completely understands. I know that I will be able to go out drinking with my friends of yore in the future so that doesn’t bother me. I know for certain that will also be able to spend time with my nephew in the future, but in the future he will never be one and half again. So I chose family over friends and I have no regrets.
There’s also a whole shitload of other stuff that happened over the weekend but that’s another story.