Got a guy here at work, a co-worker of sorts, that likes to take on everyone's problems, that, most likely, cannot be solved.
I tell him he needs to stop inviting this type of transaction, but listen, he does not.
That's not my problem either.
Got a guy here at work, a co-worker of sorts, that likes to take on everyone's problems, that, most likely, cannot be solved.
I tell him he needs to stop inviting this type of transaction, but listen, he does not.
That's not my problem either.
First, I would put the crowd at about 25 people or so when we got there around 6. It probably "swelled" to about 35 by 7:30 when we left. Giant bar. One bartender. Drink order time. They didn't have the wine my wife wanted. I could not see the taps from my vantage point and no list was provided so I ordered a Bud Light. When delivered, the nice lady said "that's the last of the Bud Light draft". Now I used to run bars. You can run out of a lot of things I guess. Bud Light is not one of them.
In looking around, I noticed that there were two other women at the TK. My wife was the 3rd. My wife said "this place needs a ladies night!" Which I replied "this is ladies night!".
The food was what it was. I had a really good burger, my wife really liked her sandwich. So food is not the reason nobody is in this place.
But then I figured it out.
When we got there, they had sone hardcore Toby Keith kind of country on. OK. I Guess. Then things really started rolling. Picture a restaurant bar that plays (at a loud volume) a mix of Disturbed, Metallica and Pantera! What do you get?
A Sausage Party. 100% grade A creep sausage.
Women (for the most part) don't want to hear Pantera at a bar. So they stay away. Which leaves guys that want to meet women away. Which leaves people like us looking for something close and decent, and the aforementioned creeps.
Case solved.
I would like to see Jaguars-Vikings but that's a longshot.
Speaking of a longshot, check out Long Shot on netflix. It's really cool.
Anyways we have a semi-secret policy of WFH for my team at work. Problem is we have people want to abuse the WFH perk. Case in point, we've got a guy (really an alien lifeform) that lives in PA. Commutes every day to North J for work. hats off to you sir, because that is something I could never do. Anyways, today it snowed. Started late around these parts. So his boss (who reports to SoulSlam) comes in and says "blank is gonna WFH today". To which I said, uh no. Because a snowflake fell doesn't mean you get to stay home and get paid. You can take a vacation day.
I was here at 8:10AM.
Now with the re-signing after trading away a player they traded for, the NY Mets have once again shown themselves (IMO) of little imagination or fortitude. And you could think that the name of this post has something to do with the deal. It does. And it does not.
I have been feeling pretty ambivalent towards the Mets since the regular season ended. I would even say a might disappointed. They basically run a AAA team out on the field in September, then expect Mets fans to be excited for 2018. I (and I think we) am not. The hot stove is pretty cold around here. It's gotten to the point where I have not worn a piece of Mets gear since mid-October. Nothing. These items lay dormant (mostly caps). Waiting for me to come back. But I don't know if I will.
That's hard to say. But it's truthful.
So yesterday I thought back a few years...SoulSlam used to be a HUGE fan of the NY Knicks. Grew up a big fan. Clyde, Earl the Pearl, Bernard King, Willis the Big Man in my youth, Patrick Ewing, The Oak and Anthony Mason (RIP) when I got somewhat older. Then something happened. I don't blame Latrell Sprewell but it was around his time...and the strike of 1999. I just decided I didn't like this team anymore. So I became a basketball fan, not a Knicks fan. I rarely root for the Knicks at all. This season they have some excitement and young'uns that can turn that around, but 19 years later it's a no-go for me.
That's how I'm starting to feel about the NY Mets. The ownership of this team has done so little to renew my faith year after year that I think I'm at the point where I've given all I can give. Spring training will be the key. If that doesn't give my heart a kickstart, then it's "who's on tonight?" time. Stay tuned.
None of that. It's pretty much more of the same. Sure, tech moves on but guys are still wearing neckties (not modified Nehru jackets like old movies predicted), cars still have to make contact with the road (and use gasoline), and all that stuff.
But we get older. I know I have. I like to think I'm still 24 (dream) but I am not. The Sons of SoulSlam are 19 and 17 respectively. Not little boys anymore. Beasts. Gym-killers. It's kind of bittersweet. On one hand you are proud of how they turn out. On the other, sad, because you know that they will never be little again. That's life I guess.
Happy New Year.