Second Effort

Plans are in the works for the big state track and field weekend in Des Moines, which I have managed to parlay into some much-needed man time. Former Spartan track star Prof. Tre, now on his extended summer vacay from grueling English teaching duties, has agreed to brave the sunny 75 degree conditions while I carry out my lowly sports editor routine during Friday’s session. We will then partake in said man time through the night at what I’m hoping will be the cheapest, grungiest hotel in town. The dawn will bring more track and the arrival of our women on the scene. But it is Friday night that is of some concern.

See, I have a history of making the most of these rare nights away from the boss. On one such trip, this time solo, I spent an evening alone in my room with a sixer of Bud heavy, and not one, not two, but three Long John Silvers full dinner platters. I ate all of them. By my calculations this must have included at least 5 fillets, 20 big fried shrimp, maybe four chicken planks and about a pound of fishy french fries.  With an extra side of hush puppies and all the little crispy things.  I am confident that after this binge, sheets had to be thrown away and at least one illegal alien quit her sweet Motel 6 gig on the spot.

This, I think, has the Prof’s better half slightly concerned about her husband’s well being in my company and prompeted this intraoffice exchange:

From: Little Susie

To: No. 3

Re: Bad Influence

Rules for Friday night:
1. No cigarettes for Mikey.
2. If you decide to eat Long John Silver’s and you must take your shirts off, please refrain from rubbing your greasy bellies together. I get jealous very easily.
3. Strip club, yes. Going down on strippers, no. (Or just wait for Sara and me to get there before the strippers enter the picture. But there will still be no going down on strippers.)
4. Try not to let Mike dry-hump any of the track stars, male or female. He gets very excited about track and field events and might get a little handsy. If you can intervene and let him grope you instead, I would appreciate it. Take one for the team.

And My Reply:

From: No. 3

To: Little Susie

Re: Clarification

In the order they appear below
1. Assuming there will be no women around (aside from strippers), I sure he won’t be driven to smoke.
2. Are bellies the only restriction when it comes to rubbing greasy parts together? Also, what if we choose KFC instead, then can we rub bellies and/or other parts?
3. Strip club, yes.
4. I cannot take responsibility for him on this count. What I can promise is that I will document any such incident, including his forcible removal from the stadium with my handy digital camera.

This is gonna be awesome.

Today, I rid myself of my burden.

BEFORE

AFTER 

I’ve been thinking hard about putting together a series outlining a history of my being rejected by women…but this was more amusing:

NEW BRITAIN, Conn. —  A man died while trying to outdo a rival with an acrobatic move while “battle dancing,” police said.

Robert Stitt, 48, and his rival were competing in a parking lot Monday night when he tried a forward flip and landed on his head.

“It was just two guys dancing. Everybody was laughing,” Stitt’s friend John Boxley said.

Boxley said James Brown was on the radio and Stitt wanted to outdo a rival dancer, who had flipped in the air.

Police said the victim went into cardiac arrest and was pronounced dead a short time at a local hospital.

Police said several people were in the parking lot drinking and battle dancing — a competition in which each dancer tries one-upmanship with unique moves.

A gritty underbelly of a nation ravaged by Dancing with the Stars and So you think you can Dance.