Wednesday, June 2, 2010

fox and hounds and sharks and gnomes

Pool night at the Fox and Hounds is educational. I learned there is absolutely no way to pretend you're good at pool. (I was hoping everyone was drunk.) Lesson #2: Turns out I got skills like that, so instead, Jess and I won. And I mean we killed.

The game is called Cutthroat.

They're a little lot conservative with their prawns, and will touch your cash and then your straw. I mean, a person notices this stuff prior to drinking.

Kyle is so cute I get extra credit for every ball I sank. He's no Maurice, but he is Scott. I'm sorry I keep calling him Justin. KyleKyleKyle...


KyleScottJustin cleaning up the table:


Ya think?


Somewhere in the haze: Jenna, Jess, and KyleScottJustin:


Debe and Jenna talking Mimi, parking, and the best way to get two blocks away:


Hoo.Fucking.Ray. Two blocks away turned out to be VooDoo Donuts, arguably the most hyped and undeserving donut haven anywhere. I realize that it's social suicide to admit that you don't love Elmer's Glue or whatever in your donuts, and the vegans are all doing back flips, but I'm not impressed. I require the sweet/savory experience to be in separate bites. Nyquil? Puh-leeze, omg. This place is basically The Emperor's New Clothes. Or the Segway. Or iPhone cameras for that matter. But Jennifer, this shot's for you:


Luckily there was a plain-ish one, with just a bit of cat litter or something similar to scrape off. Unluckily I left my $6.00 bottle of water behind. While we were saying our goodbyes, and Debe was holding the awkwardly huge box of a dozen let-me-downs, a gnome-looking guy came over as if we'd been waiting for him all night. Fortunately for my memoirs, though it sucked in the moment, he was a really loud close-talker. He gave a schpiel about how he's sure we've had bad experiences with homeless people, which personally, I have not, and that he's sorry for that. He's 63, and has never hurt anyone, and he's just hungry. Now, if we could spare even a dollar, he'd be much obliged, and if not, he'll walk away and won't bother us again. I mean, he was really close.

"So what's it gonna be?" He asked. I felt like he was trying to close a deal.

"Sorry man, all I have is a debit card." I replied.

(Pause for his face to turn bright red, at which point he punched the box of donuts as hard as he could, right in Debe's hands.)

"YOU HAVE A DOZEN DONUTS!"


I gulped for a second, because Debe is my most highly-trained spy, and I thought her Oakland reflexes might kick in. Alas, she was wearing a skirt, and had really good bangs, and was still holding the smashed donut box. So he got away.

Maybe we'll see him next time. (Turns out Todd liked the blueberry ones.) Whatever, as long as Kyle's there.

5 comments:

owlishly said...

Next time we need more Kyle and less dirty fingers juicing the limes.

Hennifer said...

Thanks for the shot! I'm glad it focused on my donut enough for me to forget the things I saw in that case last time that were decidedly non-donut!

The question is begging to be asked... What donuts DO you like??

Cheyenne said...

Well, swanky pastry often fails to delight, and cheap-ass shit can change your life, you know? Besides, it's all moot, as my heart and cholesterol belong to tiramisu.

Dana said...

You had me on the edge of my seat with the donuts and the homeless guy. That's a little traumatic. All I want to do right now is go to Voodoo Donuts. I've never been there but I don't mind glue.

Cheyenne said...

It's a date. I'll keep you safe in my tough shoes.