Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Stupid girls

Nah, not the Pink song, but something similar. The trixie type straight out of Lincoln Park. I was happy post Cub hard fought victory over the Milwaukee Brewers. Widening our lead in the division, cutting our magic number to 4. It was a grand and glorious evening in Wrigleyville. Perfect ballgame weather. So, we went to meet up with some friends at Bernie's. They were fortunate to have scored a table. We had a few beers with them and I headed to the ladies room. I use "ladies" loosely because rarely is there a "lady" in the bathroom of a bar right across from Wrigley Field post Cubs night game. Or any game for that matter.

Score! No line! It's my lucky day. I did notice the two, heavily painted, super low cut top wearing bimbos at the mirror, but whatever. Nothing was gonna ruin my evening! I do my business, flush, and exit the stall. They are still camped out in front of the mirror. Spread out before them made a Sephora look like a second rate purveyor of nothing but Wet and Wild cosmetics. I kinda look at them and look at the sink. I can't get to the sink. They are blocking the w I say "excuse me, please." Nada. Again, slightly louder, I say "excuse me, please." I get the eyeroll. Once more I try and they don't move. So, mentally, I say aw fuck it and move in. I reach for the sink which triggers the hurricane force turbo hand dryer on the wall. Under the hurricane force turbo hand dryer sat the Trixie's beer. Directly under the nozzle. Now, you don't have to be a science major to realize what is going to happen when a concentrated column of high speed air that is about the diameter of, oh say, a beer cup hits a full cup of beer. It sort of resembled Old Faithful. A column of beer shot into the air. In my happy state I didn't quite figure out that I had caused this, or actually, what it was at first. I was thoroughly soaked. Drenched in beer. But, so were the Trixies. And, they were out a beer, so it was worth it. There were, of course, some vulgarities flung at me. At which point, I pointed out if they had been kind and responsible bathroom participants it would never had occured.

And, I went back to our table, thoroughly drenched and slipped on my clean, dry sweatshirt and wiggled out of my jersey and tank top and no longer reeked of beer. They, however, had to spend the rest of the night smelling like a brewery.


Al's CL Reviews said...

Karma's a bitch! Love it!

Robin said...

BWAH! I was wondering exactly how the beer monsoon occurred!