If You Can't Laugh at Yourself, You Can Always Laugh at Others

As expected, the Valentine's Day weekend provided an abundance of awkward moments in the world of people watching. The first humorous moment occurred at Old Venice Pizza on Friday evening. While Drunk John (now that’s a nickname you want on your resume) and I were contemplating our options for the night, I noticed a young couple sitting next to the window. They were each holding glasses of red wine, and the guy, entering rico suave mode, swirled and smelled the wine like he was the Maxwell Smart of food critics. The girl’s smiley giggles immediately became an outright blush when the guy suddenly erupted into a sneezing fit with his nose nearly dipped in wine. Being a perpetrator of Mel Brooks-style gaffes myself, I refuse to knock the man for trying to impress his date (I presume sniffing wine is an admirable, albeit sober quality). This was a sign of things to come.

When we were upstairs at Old Venice (formally known as The Burgundy Room) enjoying the pleasures of a college-town signature event, two-for-one drinks, we witnessed a guy spill his date’s wine onto her white coat. Another guy, attempting to impress his female companion, politely seated his date and slid her chair forward before seating himself. The only problem was that his “slide” was more of a shove, resulting in a crushing knee-to-table collision for the seated lady. Remember, these moments of genius all occurred within a two hour time span.

Later, there was a haphazard display of girl on girl crime. The offender was a young woman who happened to be smoking alone on the balcony at The Burgundy room. She appeared to be dateless, likely the result of her nicotine habit, unsightly tattoo, violet hair, and depressingly Emo lifestyle. I'm not really sure what Emo is, but she fit my description of what a Fall Out Boy fan looks like. The offended party in this scene was a young, naïve-looking girl who appeared to be happily charmed by her equally baby-faced date. Unfortunately for the pint-sized lass below, the culprit upstairs had no problem littering on the streets of our fine town. She probably kills one innocent puppy per day, not by listening to Fall Out Boy (though that is debatable), but by throwing her cancer sticks like a fetch toy. So the obvious occurred and a cigarette butt fell into the hair of the girl below. At this point, our Angelina Jolie wannabe had snuck back inside while the girl below shrieked at pitches only known to man’s best friend. This resulted in people sitting in the dining rooms and balconies of both City Grocery and Old Venice Pizza to alertly gaze upon the teary-eyed victim. It was a regretful sight, but I’m sure karma retaliated by setting the cigarette-slinger on fire. Trust me, I’ve seen it happen.

My favorite moment of the weekend was Saturday night at Parrish's “Haiti/RedCross Fundraiser”. An older couple, appearing to be in their fifties, was taking in the occasion amongst a flock of mid-twenties partiers. My new pal Ron (Señor Smoothie) introduced me to the couple and I decided to join them at the end of the bar. The wife explained to me that she and her husband were out this particular evening because her Valentine’s Day gift wish was “a night of dancing and being a college kid again.” She portrayed her husband as regrettably embracing the idea, which he suitably denied by ordering drinks for everyone. The lovely couple was only secondary to the humor on this night. After the band (Hoarsebox, courtesy Sweet Tea Recording Studio and the Republic of Ireland) cranked up the tunes, my elder friends set a good example for the rest of the crowd by taking to the dance floor (not really a dance floor…more like an empty space that tempts hip-swingers). The laughter occurred when a girl who appeared to be slightly tipsy (monumentally smashed) thought she would drag her date/boyfriend to the front of the crowd and mock her senior square-steppers. Fortunately for everyone rooting for the home team, the young lady immediately lost her balance, hit the deck, and limped away, leaving her embarrassed, male companion to fetch her purse and right shoe. If only the “cigarette-butt in her hair” girl could have taken solace in such fireworks!

Overall, it was a swell weekend filled with memorable shenanigans. I hope everyone enjoyed themselves as well and will remember to keep up the insanity around February 14, 2011. I certainly love holidays, so I’ll be celebrating Presidents’ Day tomorrow by sleeping till noon, eating an afternoon feast, and generally displeasing the American public.