Phone it in Friday: Exclusive sad life snippets edition
I’m this blog away from checking off everything on my to-do list today. The fuck has happened to me? This is far from phoning it in. I’ll be better. Or worse I guess.
Anyways I haven’t had any profound(ly stupid) ideas this week so I suppose I’ll just rip an extra dose of sad life snippets. Buckle up kids, my life is pathetic.
Sad life snippets
I’ve begun my quarterly attempt to get in shape which will end, like all the others, in a $25 GoPuff order that’s just ice cream and hot fries. But anyways I’ve gone to the boxing gym 2 or 3 times this week and encountered the same trainer each time. He makes a specific point to come up to me and fist bump me like I’m a Make-A-Wish kid who just scored a fake touchdown. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the acknowledgement, but I’m pretty sure he’s only doing it because I’m a big fella. Case in point, he sought me out for a fist bump today after my workout and I wasn’t even doing a class. I ripped a tight 20 on the StairMaster and he stopped a separate personal training session to come fist bump me. Suspect.
Like 4-5 months back I was violently sick with a stomach bug for a few days and my very sweet gf came and brought me soup, medicine, and just a shitload of disposable masks. The first two were very appreciated, but as food poisoning isn’t contagious and I’m not an enormous boner, I had no use for the masks. Now they just clutter up one of my desk drawers and I’ve started using them in lieu of paper to take notes during meetings.
Every time I see a cool looking guy walking back to his apartment carrying golf clubs, I always want to go up to him and say, “Hey man, how’d you hit ‘em,” but then I pussy out and never do it.
I think my stomach goes through withdrawals when I switch to a healthier diet. The other week I was feeling like absolute hell despite drinking a lot of smoothies and incorporating more vegetables. Then one morning I crushed not one, but two breakfast sandwiches on my daily walk and I immediately felt better. By the way, those sandwiches were from two different restaurants located within 100 yards of each other.
Was walking with the gf around my neighborhood and we stopped at the local baseball field to watch a half inning of a Babe Ruth game being played. As I stood there, trying to figure out how hard it would be to set up a lucrative gambling operation dealing solely in local teenage athletics, some scrawny little earthy crunchy soy boy comes by and says, “Oh wow, sportsball. So fun.” I pump faked throwing my water bottle at the back of his head so hard that the thing almost actually left my hand. Let me enjoy my shit you little bitch.
Was on a walk and saw a jogger wearing a t-shirt from my high school. So naturally I yelled, “Ay Prep” at him and pointed at his shirt but he didn’t see me. I then spent 20 minutes weaving through various side streets in an effort to cut him off and get him to acknowledge me. He got it on the third try.
Went to the doc a while back cause my eye was swollen shut from seasonal allergies. (I get very bad seasonal allergies). They charge me $1,200 to sit in a darkroom for 30 minutes and have someone prescribe me steroid eyelid cream. That’s not the complaint, though I am currently arguing with my insurance. The real issue was when they gave me the visit summary and the next steps were all about eating a healthier diet and working out regularly. These dicks used the summary from my physical like 2 years ago to fat shame me. Now I’m not paying your stupid steroid fees — good luck staying afloat without my money Mass General Hospital.
I’m pretty chill in general and try to maintain a certain level of aloofness to let people know that I prioritize coolness over fully engaging in the human experience. However, the few times I do get emotional it always takes me by surprise. I’ll be watching a cooking show where someone makes a really good dessert and I’ll cry at the effort and technique that went into making it. Granted I’m usually hammered when this happens, but still.
Was at a bar a few months back with my college buddy and several of his friends. I felt a little cramped at the table and realized it was because everyone else there, save my friend, was a fucking UNIT. Just a bunch of tall, thickly built boys and one scrawny kid. We were a few skill position players away from a Division 3 college football team.
This is from way back in the day, but when I was in high school I used to umpire to make a little spare cash. And by spare cash I mean my only cash. Anyways, I’m umping some 13-year-olds from my hometown and they absolutely suck. They’re getting their fucking doors blown off and it’s clearly demoralizing to the team and their parents. Then late in the game, their 9-hole hitter steps up to the plate. This kid is special needs and hasn’t gotten a hit in any of the games I umped that year. But then suddenly, he puts one in play — dribbling grounder down the third base line. VERY hard play for a fielder that age to make on the big diamond. The batter is digging it out to first and I’m the only umpire so I get in position down the line to make the call. By the way, this whole time the parents and the players are going crazy in support of this kid. The third basemen charges the ball and makes a good strong throw. I see the runner step on first base and hear the pop of the ball going into the glove at virtually the same time. It’s about as bang-bang as you can get and neither coach would really argue the call either way. Everyone turns to me in anticipation. I take a beat, gather myself, then cock back my right arm and punch it forward as hard as I can yelling, “HE’S OUT.” The parents let out a disappointed aww and the coach looks at me with a bemused expression as if to say, “Come on man, just give us this.” Nope, the throw beat him by half a step. Can’t treat him differently just because he’s special needs. On my field, he’s just a ballplayer, same as everyone else. And he was out.
I’m an enormous asshole I know. Have a great weekend Fatties!
