This week’s column was supposed to be on “The VIP” but I feel the need to rant my balls off about the insanity that was St. Patrick’s Day in East Lansing. This day was particularly troubling for me, as I awoke to a cool breeze and downright comfortable temperatures outdoors. God help the city of East Lansing.
To say that St. Patrick’s Day is not a big deal is a little bit like saying that a bukkake-fest is tantamount to a small drop of sour cream getting in the corner of your mouth following a bite from an over-sized taco (that’s what she said). It does not help the situation that the bar that I work at is in fact (spoiler alert!), an Irish Pub. That means, when I drove to my 8 a.m. class, I passed work at 7 a.m. only to see over 400 motherfrickin people in line! Before the bar even opened. Some of which were already smelly drunk.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t so much this as it was (see below):
Not even a fraction as awesome.
I apologize for the somewhat untimely and now kind of outdated article, but frankly, your mom wasn’t going to bang herself, so I was too busy to write an article last week. So i’ll continue. When you take a great big pot, fill it with a stuffload of green beer, then add the social acceptability of drinking at 7 a.m., beautiful 60 degree weather, and a stuffload of college-aged students; that’s a recipe for a booze-fueled atom bomb set to destroy East Lansing.
Here are just a few total fudgeatards, that I had the pleasure of interacting with while at my shift at the door (from 5:30 pm until 2:00 am).
1) The most important motherfudgeer that walks this earth.
This man stood at a commanding 5’7” and the best word to describe him would be “stout” (get it? Beer pun!), so I should have figured he was going to be someone who felt the need to tell everyone who was within smell-shot of him, that he was an IT-tech training officer for the United States government somewhere in Utah. Is Utah even in the United States anymore? Your guess is as good as mine. So this guy starts telling me that he is going to cancel his credit card and then the bar would lose his $75 tab. As he talked and talked (while the other door guy was inside looking for this fat dipstuff’s tab), I had to stop him and be honest.
He hurt my feelings with his amazing IT career to my ‘door guy career’
Me: Look man, I get paid like 9 bucks an hour, okay? That is not even a fraction of the amount of money I would need to get paid to give a stuff about this story you are telling me. I am not trying to be rude, but I do not get paid enough to give a fudge about your story, or 99.9% of the story’s people tell me. You’re welcome to continue talking, but know that I won’t be listening or paying attention.
Fat: …Yeah…I guess that’s understandable.
I hope you enjoyed that nice little glimpse of rational humanity, because after that sentence, the whole interaction between he and I was promptyl de-railed.
Pictured: Irrational douchebag, similar to the guy I am speaking of.
He then decided to pull a move that has happened quite a few times, and it’s never a terribly impressive move. He tells me that he is going to sue me. Not only that, but that he “has lawyers” in one of the most smug tones I have ever heard in my whole entire life.
Thankssssssssssss.
I am no law expert, but I didn’t really believe that there was much of a legal precedent for the situation. None the less, I told him politely that I’d expect my subpoena soon.
His final attempt at i’m not sure what, was trying to convince my co-worker and I that he was not “that drunk.” Here’s a tip to all people who frequent the bars: Never tell a bouncer that you are not drunk. The only people that actually say “I’m not even that drunk, bro” are thee drunkest people ever. Also, super wasted people repeat themselves, but you already knew that. He ended the conversation by telling me to suck his dick, and of course, “Fuck You.”
2) The Drunk and Emboldened Guy
This guy was just an offshoot of a previous entry (read: tough guy). This will be short because there is honestly not a ton to say about this feller. This guy was getting kicked out of the bar for getting into a fight, I guess. He was already insanely drunk, stumbling everywhere, had a black eye, but the worst of his problems: white sunglasses. Nothing screams “I guzzle microwaved semen for tennis lessons” like a pair of white sunglasses.
Unfortunately for girls, this is ½ of the guys on campus
Look, I understand that if you feel like you have been wronged, you usually want to get a pound of flesh. This feeling is only extrapolated and more importantly, displaced, when you are really drunk. Here’s the thing that drives me nuts: People who overdo it and get kicked out ALWAYS get pissed off at the door guys, because we are the ones who won’t let them back into the bar.
This guy stood outside next to me and the other door guy for a full 10 minutes before he spoke, but when he spoke…man, it was rough. He was pissed off , so he did the thing where he goes “I’m going back inside and getting a drink,” and when the other door guy stopped him, he began to call me and him losers. Over and over and over again. I can totally see why this guy got punched in the face.
Here are my thoughts on this: the more often you go out, the more often you are apt to run into problems. It’s the law of averages. This guy was very lucky that me and the particular door guy I was working with were actually chemically balanced, rational human beings. Otherwise, that fudgehead would have been going home with two black eyes.
Tommy Tougherson, ladies!
Look at Snooki for instance. I know it’s difficult because she is why the terrorists hate us and all, but she got punched in the face by a guy. I’m on the fence about this, because while I am a firm believer that no man should ever lay a hand on a woman, I don’t consider Snooki to be a woman so much as an asexual troll. Look, the more you are a totally annoying clam (yes, clam), the higher the probability is that you are going to talk stuff to the wrong person. I am not endorsing this guy’s behavior. I’m just saying the more stuff you talk, the more you are going to run into the type of person who is apt to punch a girl in the mouth.
You don’t want to punch her?
This is exactly why this guy got punched in the face. Luckily for him, my co-worker and I don’t make a habit out of beating the stuff out of super drunk people who can’t shut their mouths. I’m just saying, watch who you are talking stuff to, because eventually you are going to run into someone who will either kick your ass, or drug you and make sex with your ass.
3) The Vomiter
I think we are all in agreement that puke ranks pretty high in the “foul bodily fluids” category. Actually, come to think about it, it’s probably right in the middle considering there are only a few bodily fluids. But I digress. Vomit is frickin nasty. Especially when it’s someone else’s. It’s a little like having a kid; you have to tolerate the little stuff when he/she is ruining every material thing you love, but if another kid comes into your house and starts frickin around with your iPad, you are well within your right to pack the kid into a FedEx box and send him to Abu Dhabi (source: Garfield, 1995). It’s also like pee, in that people will piss in the shower and all over their feet, but someone gets a molecule of someone else’s piss on them and they start running around like someone dipped their head in gasoline and lit them on fire.
HIS HEAD’S ON FIRE, RUNNNNNNNN!!
Anyway, puke is puke, and like I said earlier, I don’t get paid a whole lot at my job, so cleaning up puke is the last thing on the entire planet that I am interested in doing while working. At the bar I work at, we have two large benches right by the door for people to sit at and wait for tables during the day. At night, they are bastardized as a bed for some, and a toilet for others.
On St. Patrick’s Day, a super drunk girl sat on the bench next to this guy and said that they were waiting for their cab. I get that. The next thing I heard was a waitress trying to get my attention because the girl was puking. As I screamed for this butt to get his girlfriend out of the building, he had the nerve to rub her back and say “oh, it’s okay, get it all out baby,” which was when I yelled “get your bitch out of here before we call the cops, you motherfudgeer!” Kind of anti-climactic. He took her outside as he threatened me and all that normal stuff. I’m just saying that I don’t get paid enough not to fly off the handle and be a totally rude butt when some drunk person is puking inside, because we (the security) have to clean it up.
Bonus: I watched a girl who was so wasted, she sat on the concrete steps that lead up to the bar and vomited all over herself and the steps, and then proceeded to draw patterns and designs in her own sick. Bad times for her. I flipped out on the guy she was with, but cut him a little slack because as soon as he touched her she turned her head and puked on his hands.
All in all, St. Patty’s Day could have been a lot worse. There was a line of over 125-ish people from about 7 am until about 1:30 a.m. and relatively few incidents. These people I mentioned, were probably the douchiest of the night, and the ones that stuck in my head the most. Holy stuff though, you want to see some madness? Plan a trip to East Lansing on St. Patty’s Day, and clear your schedule for the next few days to nurse your inevitable hangover.
