Content-type: text/html Ray Manning

Monday, February 21, 2000 7:06 AM

Just A Weekend

With the EOS customers being in town, taking up lots of quality time, and a Pre-Environmental Test Readiness Review (which features NO animations, but a recycled color vugraph from the EOS-PM1 CDA) and two late night ice hockey games, I find myself NOT tired. The ephedrine has kicked in and keeps me wired when used in conjunction with caffeine.

On Friday night I head down to the Frat House. The place is dead when I arrive. Later on a number of yuppies, trash scum, and ambivalent losers show up. They have probably read the review of the Frat House from the OC Weekly Sex Issue of February 11-17 and decided to visit. (The OC Weekly review had the words "impossibly small parking lot", "They're having a great time.", "Everybody smiling.", and "Everybody happy." before giving the Frat House a final T-Zone Sex Meter Fun Rating of 3 - out of 10.) The yuppies, trash scum, and ambivalent losers leave before the real fun begins near 11:30pm. The club gets crowded, but with less people than on a usual Friday night. The Jump Project is there passing out condoms and other supplies with a package insert with the words "Making Healthy Decesion!". I do NOT point out either the spelling or the grammatical errors to the Jump Project. When somebody asks me if I want to use a condom, I give an irresolute smile. But the next thing I know, I am waking up on Saturday morning with a very dry and sore throat. And it is NOT ChiChi next to me in my own bed. I am disgusted.

A bicycle ride helps me feel better. I return home and drag out the electric weed wacker and a power cord. When the combination of electric weed wacker/power cord/still wet grass does not produce the desired effect, I become depressed and realize that now I have to mow the lawn also. Nopester and I mow the lawn. When he runs down the street and is out of sight for a few minutes and doesn't respond to calls, I hear a child's voice whispering "I see dead people". But he eventually comes back with no visible signs of mayhem. When I finish mowing the lawn the feelings of disgust and depression are still there.

I do what anyone else would do in this situation: I go hang out at the liquor store at PCH and MLK on Saturday afternoon and get bored. When I hear my favorite L7 song, "Off The Wagon", I know that it is a sign from above.
[Sidebar: Some words to the song here.
Been dry long enough, my brain and body need some abuse
Rake me over the coals and I'll try and find some excuse.
I've got a goal and it won't be hard
Hit every bar on the boulevard.
"Bad idea" - yeah you're probably right
I won't be a designated driver tonight!
I'm off the wagon and on the town
Oh shit - I lost my ID
Hook up the Jagermeister IV
I'm off the wagon and on the town]

I do what any sane person would do in this situation: I buy a giant bottle of whiskey (which costs more than the gross national product of many third world countries) AND chocolate cake. Later, after much of the whiskey and some of the cake is gone, I feel better. I am not disgusted with myself over Friday night. I am, however, disgusted with myself over Saturday afternoon.

Sunday morning the dry, sore throat is worse. I consider going out with an electric hedge trimmer in the rain, but decide not to. After starting my taxes, lifting weights, and playing an ice hockey game, I hear the song "Off The Wagon" again! (I guess, that I should point out that I am NOT hearing the song on the radio, but rather on the L7 CD which I have voluntarily put in. Does this invalidate the "sign from above" part?) I consider whether to fall off the wagon again on Sunday late afternoon, but I do not.

On Monday morning, President's day, I ponder staying home. But it is raining and there is an earthquake, so I cannot go for a bicycle ride. I get out of bed and head towards TRW. I consider playing the L7 CD again, but realize that the liquor stores are not open yet. Moving GRID points and lumping masses will have to suffice.