The holidays always seem to be the time for making new memories. Here are two.
Kyle and I went to see the Golden Compass the other week. While in line for refreshments prior to the flick, we were stuck behind a mom and her two daughters. It could have been an Aunt watching the two girls or some other sort of caregiver, I don’t know. What I do know is that the line was moving VERY slowly and the girls were NOT well behaved.
Gosh I love naughty children around the holidays.
Anyway, each time the girls acted up, the mom/caregiver would admonish the girls with a “That isn’t the type of behavior that Santa wants to see.” Yeah, the old ‘naughty list’ threat. She kept it up saying, “if you two don’t behave, Santa won’t bring you any presents” yadda yadda yadda.
Well, after about the fourth or fifth iteration of this, I turned to Kyle and said in a low, satanic-ish voice, “Santa’s DEAD.”
I figured I had whispered it, so that only he could hear it. Or at the very least the lobby noise would provide adequate cover. When I turned back around, I saw this frozen look of horror on the mom/caregiver’s face. It was that mouth closed but eyes REALLY BIG look.
She wasn’t looking at me, but I could tell she had heard my comment. I think she was trying to figure out if the girls heard.
The second memory has to do with the Bear Beer Bust that I attended last Friday night.
I don’t know how it is in other cities, but the Bears in Minneapolis appear to be a very cliquish and distrusting group. They most definitely aren’t like the bears at Yellowstone that just come right up to your car windows. The bears here just hang in their individual groups (like the twinks) and quietly judge you.
Anyway, I saw a rather tall bear come in wearing a purple Northwestern scarf. It didn’t match his ensemble, so I figured he might have gone there… as did I. I vowed to chat with him about it later.
While filling up my fourth or fifth beer (4 to 5 seems to be a theme with me), the ScarfBear wandered up to the tap. Since I’d had a few, I took this as my opportunity to ask him about the scarf. And I did it in my best, “I figure you went to NU so I’ll razz you about it and test your conversational finesse” way.
cb (with a smile in his voice and twinkle in his eye): Heeeeeeey! Northwestern! So why you wearing that ugly, goddamn Northwestern scarf anyway?
Scarfbear: —- stony silence—-
SB: Because its warm.
cb: Any other reason?
SB: (pause with bad smell face expression) No.
Then he turns to go back to his clique of bears. So I mumbled to his back, “Oh, because I actually WENT there, and if you had I might have thought you were COOL or something.”
The more I thought about it, the more incensed I became. This tall, fat, ugly ass bear was blowing ME off like that? What’s THAT all about?
I bitched about it for quite some time to Tim and his friends. I was even threatening (after I’d had a few more beers) to go up to that troglodyte and say, “Hey Northwestern…. you’re a BIIIIIIIIIIIIITCH.”