Friday, May 27, 2011

A Typical Night Out

As I'm sure you've already noticed, my buddies and I like to go out for some drinks and merriment. Instead of writing about any specific tales, I will encapsulate every night we've had out in one post. Ready...go!

Guy 1: Where should we go tonight?

Guy 2: I don't know. I don't make it up here much, so maybe we should go to the same bar we go to every time I'm here since it's our favorite.

Guy 3: Yeah, maybe. We always go there though. Switching it up could be cool.

Guy 4: Let's just finish our game of Tiger Woods/NHL Hockey/Dance Central and figure it out after.

Guy 1: Deal.

(4 drinks each later)

Guy 1: Shit it's getting kinda late. Same bar we always go to?

Other 3: Yup!

Guy 2: I'll call a cab. Make sure you watch for it.

(30 minutes later)

Guy 4: (In an awful Pauly D voice) The cabs ahh heeeehhhaaa!

Guy 1: But I just opened a beer!

Guy 3: Why? You knew they were coming.

Guy 1: ...I'm an idiot. Screw it, I'll take it with.

(After traveling at the speed of light through town.)

Guy 2: Anyone else have cash?

(Deafening silence.)

Guy 2: Damnit.

Guy 1: I am absolutely drenched in beer right now.

(A few drinks are enjoyed and some sloppy shufflepuck is played. Then...)

Guy 1: Shots?

Guy 2: Nah. I don't want to go overboard tonight.

Guy 4: It's getting late. I'm trying to get on top of something. Who's coming with me!

Guy 3: ...fine.

Guy 4 to Random Girl 1: What winks and screws like a tiger. ::Violent winking::

Guy 3 to Random Girl 2: Your earrings are stupid.

(Painful silence. Both slink away without a word. More time and drinks pass.)

Guy 1: Shots?

Guy 2: YOU KNOW IT!!!!

I would keep going, but that's right around the memory cut-off time for me. The point is, there are many nights like many nights before them, but we always have a good time...except for the days after.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Double Standards

I've recently moved into a new house, and one of my new roommates has a cat. I like the cat, but every tiny thing he does drives me crazy. When he drinks out of my water glass or hops on the counter to get to the window sill, I can't take it. I don't want him knocking stuff over and getting his dirty cat paws all over the place I prepare my food. Since I'm home alone with him often, I think it behooves me (I'm behoven?) to keep him in line.

Contrast that to my sister's cat. I've known her for four years. Also, much of that time I didn't actually live with her and was never responsible for her in any way. Because of that, if she's on the counter when I come over, I don't think that's gross; I think, "Wow, she looks very regal up there." If I was a good person, I would help train her, too, but we already know that I am not.

The same goes for my city. Being from Duluth, I am allowed to rag on its weather, lack of activities in the winter, job market, etc. However, if an outsider starts bagging on my city, I want to tell them to, "Ride your polo horse back to your gilded mansion with your pool filled with caviar and jet skis and never come back! Dick!" Why? Because they don't also appreciate how awesome Duluth really is.

Friendship works in a similar way. When I go out with my buddies and one of us (oftentimes, me) gets out of line, we largely let it slide and it is completely forgotten the next day. One time at the U, a couple buddies told me I could go pleasure myself, left me at a party and locked me out of my own dorm room after the girl I was making out with tried to punch them for some reason. All we could do was laugh about it the next day. On the other hand, if a stranger looks at one of us the wrong way, we want to fight them. We generally don't because we don't want to get arrested or get our faces caved in, but still.

The point is, loyalty matters. In a perfect world, things would probably even out a bit between the ones we know and the ones we don't but...oh, my sister's cat is standing up on her hind legs like a ferret! She is HILARIOUS!!!

Monday, May 23, 2011

Me Hungover, Trying to Save Myself

(It is 1:32 AM, at the tail end of a night out just like many others before it. The following day, an extremely hungover Tom has acquired a time machine, and is attempting to prevent the inevitable sickness which is soon to follow.)

Drunk Tom: Jesus, you are handsome. Who are you?

Hungover Tom: It's me, you idiot! I'm you!

DT: Whoa...I didn't think I was that drunk. Usually my illusions are large women somehow looking small, but nothing like this.

HT: I'm not an illusion. I somehow found a time machine and I'm trying to prevent us from making a terrible mistake.

DT: Calling our exes?

HT: No...well, yes, don't do that, but that's not what I mean. Don't drink anymore tonight!

DT: Why not? I feel amazing! I'm impervious to the affects of alcohol!

HT: Yeah, well I feel awful. I feel like microwaved garbage. I feel like I was drop kicked into a pile of glass. Besides, do you even know what impervious means right now.


HT: Wow. Seriously, it's not worth it. You won't have any more fun, you will probably get angry, and you will pass out immediately when you get home.

DT: Nope. Imma keep drinking so I am confident enough to talk to some of the LAAAAY-DIEES!!!

HT: But you won't! You're going to play half a game of shufflepuck, lose your friends and walk home!

DT: Go away, you're no fun.

(In the background, "Shots, shots, shots-shots-shot-shots!")


HT: I give up.

DT: Where are you going?

HT: I'm going to go back in time and try to help College Tom get laid more than once in a blue moon.

DT: That sounds even more hopeless than this.

HT: True. Well, I feel like I'm going to throw up. Jackass.

DT: Love you, too!

Monday, May 16, 2011

Winning Time

As someone who has applied for and interviewed for numerous jobs, I have acquired some knowledge on how the game works. Since I'm nothing if I'm not giving, I thought I would take time out of my busy schedule to share some tips with all of you.

Bring it in For the Real Thing

Handshakes haven't been cool since Bing Crosby tap danced with Danny effing Kaye. Companies fancy themselves as families, and you want to be a member of their family. When you stride into the room, bear hug the interviewer like he's the commish of the NFL and you're the number one pick. I guarantee all of the other douchers gunning for the same job will be doling out limp wristed clammy handshakes. You 1, Competition 0.

Avoid Eye Contact

Whoever (Whomever? Just kidding; I don't care.) is interviewing you is clearly in a position of power. They like the feeling of being in control. If you try to look them in the eye, they will feel threatened and offended. Look as meek as possible. You are the clay, and they have the able hands which will mold you into a dynamo. Never forget that.

References Count

Usually the person interviewing you doesn't know you personally. Choosing the correct references is of the utmost importance. Your bookie knows your reliable, your dealer knows you have discerning taste and your sponsor knows you can tell time. Use them.

Stand Out on Paper

Everyone does their resumes on stupid white paper. BOOOO-RING! Go with either bright orange or fluorescent green, the type of paper usually reserved for rummage sales flyers. Guaranteed you get noticed!

Follow Up

The process isn't over when you leave the interview room. Make sure you send a letter afterwards. An angry, threatening letter. Let them know you are serious about getting that position and if you have to, you can find out where they live.

I hope this helped. I know I have the brightest, best-looking readers on the internet, so I trust that you now know what to do. Grab the world by the plums and be all you can be!