We all like stories…
September 14th, 2014. My mate Pete regaled us all with what started out to be a story of George R.R Martin proportions, or as Pete prefers, Raymond E. Feist, but ended up as the most boring and frankly mind numbing story any of us have ever heard. As Pete said after the sordid ordeal was over “I am not good at stories, but you get the point”.
Did we, Pete?
Let me set the scene for you, 6.54pm, The Tote beer garden. Surrounding us are musicians, boho’s and a select handful of grumbly old farts. We are discussing birthdays, the pressure of them and the sometimes dreaded and feared family birthday event.
Peter soon jumped at the chance to mingle in the merriment of this utterly titillating topic.
“I went out to a bar last year and I figured if I got at least 8 hours sleep, I would be fine to see my parents for my birthday lunch” said Pete, hands out in front of him like a William Shatner impersonator.
What a promising pretense!
You’ve got excitement, what’s gonna happen at this bar? Did he get those 8 hours? What did his parents even get him for his birthday?
His parents should have given him directions for his birthday, cause this story went fucking nowhere.
Pete, now waving his hands in the air like a distressed goose who suddenly grew arms, has realized it and is thinking “Why do i have human arms, God help me I’m a freak“, went on to enthrall us with…
“So if I left the bar at 2am I would get up at 10am and make the 12pm lunch. I checked my watch, it was only 11pm so I had time for more drinking. Then I checked again, only midnight. So cool, I still have two more hours.”
Whoa, whoa. Take it easy gramps… Did you also have an onion hanging from your belt? I heard at one time that was very stylish.
I found myself praying for someone to bust out a boombox and blast Lou Reed & Metallica’s “Lulu“, for someone to come along and play The Room on DVD on some sort of portable player, for someone to talk about that great new pop hit about summer and how that cute boy is just too darn flirty with all those other chicks but one day he will a good man who will provide for a family, but also how right now that doesn’t matter because it’s summer and all you wanna do is party like a beached whale.
Snapping back to reality, Pete was still serving up the goods.
“But by this time it was getting closer to 2am and I really had to go. However…”
Fuck yes, this is the break in the story we have all been waiting for. Here’s where the pub was taken over by criminally insane goats sporting explosive soccer balls Here’s where someone dropped 8 tabs of acid into Pete’s drink and he thought himself the President of Nigeria but with a really silly big toe that everyone dirty toboggan jokes. Here’s where Peter ran into Peter Frampton whom made repetitive love to Pete in the Kmart toy section, his semen coming out in psychedelic colours and when swallowed made you sing the songs of The Beatles.
Nope. No. No way.
“I stayed a while longer, then when it got to 3am I thought I could still have seven hours and be fine for the lunch, which was at 12pm.”
“It then got to 4.39am and I thought that was silly. How could i have let time get away like this?”
Gee, maybe you were telling someone a story buddy.
“Anyway, I hopped in a cab around 5am, or was it 6am, no, yes it was 6am and took it to Maccas. But at that time they were doing breakfast, which I completely detest! Why would I want breakfast? Just give me a McChicken man!”
Was that it? Was the story over? Could we all get on with our lives now?
“So anyway, long story short I didn’t make the lunch and I’m not good at stories but you get the point”.
Did we, Pete?
The following are the points I got from this tale
- Pete cannot tell stories
- When your story sucks, lie.
- Pete drinks a lot and it affects his interpersonal relationships
- I am a complete arsehole with no respect for my friends
- I won’t have any friends by the end of this year
- Someone clearly put acid in my drink
- I, am a dick
Pete is a fantastic bloke who has a very lighthearted nature, lighthearted enough to know that this review is all in good fun. He is a beast of a drummer and when he isn’t helping sick mentally challenged orphans, finds the time to design and manufacture weapons grade plutonium.
Story 0/5567 Shatners
Where our friendship now stands 45/50,000