A Night In Baltimore.

December 9, 2008


“Well, let’s look at that. The guy sees me over here with you all. He must know that you are my family unless he thinks I have the most unusual group of friends ever. So why would he buy shots of Red Death?” This took place in May of 2000. When I think of the […]

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Sunday Subway Ride.

October 1, 2008


“Are you being perceptive or sarcastic?” “Can’t I be both?” This took place in September of 2008. In the last two months of the summer of 2008, I had been on about 15-20 dates. Some were really a lot of fun. Some were absolutely dreadful. Whether it was friends trying to set me up or […]

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The Night I Got Thrown Out Of A Strip Club.

September 12, 2008


“OK, I’m back. And I brought my friend.” “I can see that.” “So are you ready for the both of us?” This took place in June of 2001. (I am pretty sure.) Bachelor parties hardly ever go according to plan. Despite weeks of blueprinting, something inevitably goes awry. First, the party bus is always late. […]

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A Trip To The Farmers’ Market.

July 20, 2008


She is not really staring at me, but kind of staring through me. She is letting me know that she heard me and she will get off the phone when she is good and ready. I know now what must be done. This took place in January 2004. Whether you like it or not, you […]

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Typical Friday Afternoon In College.

July 10, 2008


This is one place that I would love to casually stroll into, pull the pins on about a dozen hand grenades, casually toss them around, and make a quick exit. This took place in April 1993. Often I look in the mirror and I am amazed. It is not what you think, though. I am […]

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The Evening I Waited On Tables In A Thunderstorm.

July 6, 2008


I pull out my pen and my pad. I look down at the paper where I had been writing their orders. It is smudged and illegible. I think it might have something to do with the two inches of rain water in my apron pockets. This took place in June 2008. Some people just don’t […]

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A Night In Amsterdam.

June 25, 2008


I casually turn to the guy with the backpack and ask, “So where are you guys from? Mexico?” He doesn’t laugh. He doesn’t even seem remotely amused. He is definitely Canadian. This took place in August 1997. It seems that everywhere I go; I can manage to find someone to piss off. It’s true. About […]

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