Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Stranger Man and Crazy Produce Man-Child
I'm house sitting at the Pliego's who just went to Orlando, Florida to surprise their very good friend Betsy for her birthday...lucky bastards. Well, they have a treadmill with a TV in it in their basement, so I figured it would be a good opportunity to get my long run in. I start running and it's alright. I'm going at my normal 5.0 speed, watching FRIENDS. Now FRIENDS, is a favorite, so I kept wondering why I was watching the distance calculator and wondering what the hell was taking so long. I'm starting to cramp up, I'm sweating bullets, and FRIENDS just isn't cutting it (which should never happen).
At 2.5 miles, I'm starting to think there is something wrong with me. Maybe it was the lunch I had earlier today. Maybe, it's because I hadn't run since the past Thursday. Maybe, it's because I didn't drink enough water toady. Then...it hits me. I'm running on the treadmill of Nicole Pliego, a woman who runs...for fun. She's also a teeny, tiny woman who I'm sure loves to challenge herself during a good run. So I realize that the incline is probably not at 0.0% which it obviously is when I'm running. After I fumble around on the thing for a couple minutes...whilst jogging...I figure out how to turn it to 0.0% and am instantly amazed at how much easier the run is. I realize that I can actually finish the run and it wasn't a fluke that I could run 7 miles the previous week.
It was challenging, but I finished it. It's very odd how each run feels entirely different. I ran 6 miles last Thursday and the run wasn't tough, but I was exhausted afterwords. I just had to sit down. The run last night was tough as hell during it, but I was perfectly fine after. What the front door? Why is every run a different experience?
On a side note: Congratulations to Chris and Kerri O'Connor! These two lovebirds are honeymooning in Aruba right now after a drunkenly, fantastic wedding. The bartender told Mr. Kaylor that he's been a wedding bartender for 25 years and never in his career, has he made more money in tips or served more alcohol. Does that surprise anyone? We weren't at a wedding, we were at a Kaylor/O'Connor Irish Festival.
I clearly dropped my drink glass on the dance floor. Kerri's girlfriend from college was doing push ups while drinking out of a glass on the dance floor. And then Kerri and her friends were smashing glasses on the dance floor on purpose during the song, "Walking on Broken Glass." Clearly they take things a bit too literal over at Pace University.
The best part of the night had to have been the man-child at my table. Now, a few weeks ago, I made my table with the bride. I said who I wanted and she was okay with it. Then all of a sudden, the bridezilla decides to throw this man-child into the mix. I can't tell you much about this man-child, but I can tell you that he's 38 and doesn't wear a belt or an undershirt. After he'd unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his hairless chest, Travis says "He's everything I wanted....and more."
Travis' statement happened because I had previously warned Trav about this man....child. We were pulling up to the hotel as I was finishing my story about what I knew about this man...child...and from the car in front of us, steps out this guy...a 6'3", white trash, woman-hater. He stands up to reveal his half-empty Bud Light bottle (that I'm sure he stole from somewhere, since his typical drink is a Busch). The man-child then, quite literally, went bottoms up and chugged the rest of his beer, threw it to the side of the hotel entrance, and belched a doozy. He then walks into the hotel, where I walk by and overhear him questioning the hotel manager why they don't have any open rooms. Kerri had told us all months previous that we needed to book our rooms because they're typically sold out in the summer. Man-child doesn't care, and clearly doesn't live by the rules. Not sure where he ended up that night, but I was happy I was at a wedding, in which you were expected to be out of your seat and on the dance floor.
I wonder if Man-Child might be related to Crazy, who I recently saw again swimming in her clothes. This time...she was with a man. Maybe Stranger Man and Crazy mated and produced Man-Child.
Posted by hh at 12:13 PM