(Special contributor to PSD.com)
cause that’s how I roll. It’s the year of the Lord, two thousand and 6, and we roll into Chicago for our first, or second annual boys trip. It’s Monster, Stan and me and a couple roster fillers. Its always us three and maybe Danish is becoming a perennial, but from year to year I can't remember what year who went with us. We were going to a Bears game on Sunday, so it was the fall.
We are at Howl At The Moon and they love us down there. Drinks are flowing, nobodies been arrested yet and a big guest is due any time. That’s right, the Poet Laureate of HROT, Howler.
He’s promised us he will get us drunk when he shows up. He comes in and I'm immediately disappointed, as his Mom isn’t with him (long story, Loog knows). Hes a nice looking kid, about Danishs size, only with a liver and real young, like 25 or so. As soon as he gets in the door he tells us, “hey I only brought twenty bucks and it’s ten to get in…”
Well, even tho he’s not a minority or a hot chick we decide to redistribute some wealth and agree to buy his drinks. Someday when Siskel or Ebert dies, this kid will be big time so its worth the risk.
We've been chatting up this group of MIL, er, young ladies, who are sitting near us doing a college reunion tour from Indiana University. one of them has a body like Brooke Burke and I tell her I will buy her a drink if she dirty dances Howler. She goes up and starts grinding on him and his eyes light up like Elton Johns at the Boys Club. She finishes and I pay up. Howler spends the next 45 minutes telling us how that chick “wanted me.”
We are socializing, Monster is spinning yarns and I'm sleeping, standing against the wall with a beer in my hand when Howler comes running up and sez, “hey This Mexican wants to fight me!!!!”
The alleged perp is with a group of big dudes but threre's only 6 or 7 of them so I figure it will be a fair fight. Monster plays peacemaker tho and a while later high fives and shots are exchanged and everything is good.
For the next couple hours Howla runs up intermittently and says, “hey he flipped me the bird” or something like that but we shrug him off. Finally we tell him, “hey, you are on your own here, dawg.” Lifesaving ain't as glamorous as it looks in the movies, boyz.
Well Howla is drunker than me at the Michigan game so we decide to get him a cab. Monsta rolls him outside and summons a cab. As they pull away I remind Monsta he had no money but Monster shrugs and claims Howla speaks Arabic and should be OK with the cabbie.
We go inside and continue charming the masses. Around 3 AM we make our required stop at the Rock and Roll McDonald's and buy fifty bucks of fries, burgers and diet drinks.
The next morning concerns are raised on how Howla is. We call him a few times and get no response. We get in a cab to go to Soldier Field and it smells like puke. Habib the cabbie tells us he picked up some drunk kid the night before up at Howl and the kid barfed three times in the cab. It’s not a small world, fellas, but I guarantee ya if a pup gets drunk with a group of real American bad azzes and pukes, you will be in the same cab the next day.
I gotta go, Murph and Andy are on and Im listening to see if Monster calls in..
(some of the names have been changed to protect the innocent)
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