Scared Silly or (He pissed on himself)
Current Music Selection: Elvis Presley?Live in Vegas
Current State: California
Current Mood: Hyper
So next door to the hip up-scale restaurant where I work, is this little Japanese place that specializes in Sushi. Now I?ve never tried it, anything related to fish or sometimes takes on a fishy odor; I try my best to stay far away. Either way, this restaurant is ?rumored? to not only have the tendency to ?over-serve? its customers but allows underage kids to drink alcohol quite illegally.
For the record, I?m not against underage drinking. I?ve made literally thousands of dollars hanging outside seedy gas stations on the weekends, waiting to be approached by underage youths wishing me to purchase beer for them. I?m okay with contributing to anyone?s delinquency, minors or adults.
And since I?ve been known to reach the state of ?over-served? myself, I can?t really complain about such behavior. But since this is my blog and by now, you?re pretty sure I?m going to complain about something or make a fool of myself, you might be asking where is this going?
Saturday night at work, I?m finishing up, waiting on that last table to pay the check and leave. I think to myself, this is a perfect time to go outside and burn a cancer stick. I worked hard all day and deserve to shorten my life by seven minutes.
(why so caviler about smoking? Because though I?m shortening my life, it?s not the fun life, the first part, I?m shortening the last part, the miserable life. Judging by how miserable old people are, I?d rather not live)
So I?m outside smoking. And out of the corner of my eye, I watch this guy leave this Japanese restaurant. Now the reason I notice him, he is not Japanese or Asian. Now before you accuse me of racism or stereotyping, I know white people enjoy some of that Asian cooking. I, myself, love the flavor of the Orient. (and the food isn?t that bad either) Yet, at this particular restaurant, I?ve never seen anyone other than Asian darken the doorway. So seeing this very drunk white guy stumble out of the building caused me to take a double look.
The reason I continued to watch this drunk white guy was I thought he was kind of cute, in a dirty skate boarder kind of way. As he approached my hiding place (out back behind the restaurant in the shadows of the building, quite invisible unless you see the cherry of my cancer stick) I can hear that he is having a conversation. Unless he has an invisible friend I can?t see or a few pink elephants following him, I can only assume he?s arguing with himself.
To stay hidden and continue my voyeuristic staring, I drop my cigarette to the ground and stand perfectly still in the shadows. Now that he?s even closer, I can him hear say things. I quickly deduce they have ?cut him off? from drinking anymore. And by the way he keeps mumbling over and over again, he didn?t agree with them, at all. Apparently he was the sort who wanted to keep drinking until his liver said, ?Fuck it, I quit. You win.?
He stops about ten feet from my hiding spot, and looks around. Recognizing that he has to take a piss from the way he keeps pulling on himself and the way he looked around to make sure he was alone, I chuckle silently. I?ve had a rough day and I decide to have a little fun with this drunken white guy.
Sure enough, he walks up next to the building and fumbles with his pants for a few moments. He leans his head against the wall and uses his left hand to balance, and a few seconds later, I hear the unmistakable sounds of someone pissing.
I let him go long enough, just long enough where I know it will be tough or even impossible to stop the flow. Once I figure he reached this point, I clear my throat loudly and say, ?What are you doing pissing on my building??
I was expecting him to jump a bit, maybe let out a few curse words, you know, something along those lines. Anything really would have made me smile. But oh boy, did I get so much more. I only wish I could describe this in a way where you could see exactly what I did.
The moment I said, ?What are you doing pissing on my building?? He turned into something right out of a Marx Brothers Comedy or something. His head whipped around with a look of utter terror on his face, while his hand that he was using for balance dropped to his waist. This caused him to lose his balance and he started falling into the wall. He barely brings up both hands fast enough to catch himself. Now he?s pissing all over himself and his hands drop back to his waist. While he?s fumbling to stop pissing and put his cock away, he has to use his head, now pressed against the wall to keep him up-right.
And just when I thought it was over, he lets out a scream. This scream was filled with such agony; I instantly knew he caught some part of his twig and berries in his zipper. He falls to his knees, right in the puddle of his own piss, and frantically tries to untangle his genitals from his zipper.
I?m laughing because, well, because I?m an asshole. And I don?t think anyone should get so drunk, ALONE, that they find themselves unable to perform such simple tasks as urination. Plus, I?m totally against public urination, especially on my restaurant. That?s where I make my money for fucks sake.
So I watch him for a few moments before walking back inside the restaurant, I now want to tell the other servers about this idiot that is outside in a puddle of piss. I rush in and tell everyone to come out and see the guy I scared so badly he pissed all over himself. But after going back outside, I was disappointed to find that he had already gathered himself and disappeared into the night to lick his wounds as it were.
My juvenile antics probably scarred him for life, but hopefully in the future he?ll think twice about pissing in public. Well, at least on my restaurant.