I leave work pissed off too often. It just happens. Kinda like athlete's foot. Nobody plans on having athlete's foot. You just get it. So when I get pissed off at work I just recognize it for what it is, Corporate Crotch Rot, and move on. For athlete's foot you use a medicated powder. For Corporate Crotch Rot beer works best. My kinda medication. And Oblio's has 27 different varieties on tap.
There is some kinda political rally in the back bar when I show up, State Assemblyman. I know the guy. He's kind of a jerk. Living proof that just because someone 'Teaches' Political Science does not mean they are a good politician or even necessarily smart. I think he favors big business like he favors big tits (I know his girlfriend) and I really don't want to talk to him. Not yet. I'm voting for him in the fall simply because he is a Democratic and the Republican running against him is really fucking looney. But I don't want to get sucked into politics so I go to the front bar. Schultzie hits me up with a 3/4 full pint. "Last of the Hop Devil IPA. Gonna change the keg. On the house." Life is just a bit better.
I finish that and head to the back bar. It is loaded with folks I know and if I don't say 'hi', well then I'm a jerk. I can be an asshole at times, but I never liked being a jerk. So I talk with the Assemblyman, yadda yadda, whoppee&stuff....and then chat with Jason from Cranky Pat's Pizza. He has brought pizza for the rally. Free Pizza! and Jason says he owe's me a beer from last week. Life is getting better. Never argue with free beer or pizza. And Jason is a superswellsweet dude. Always nice to talk to.
But I had enough of politics. Head back to the front bar and run into Sean. He just sent the August issue of his business magazine to the printer and thanks me for the article lead I gave him (which I do not fucking remember at all) and gets me a Red Seal Pale Ale. Now Sean is a really nice guy and that is three free beers. Life is not so bad. It's looking up and I am really not so pissed off anymore.
"Who let your ugly ass in here? I thought they had a rule about serving vermin in here!"
It's Joe. He loves to insult me. I love to return the favor. Ping-Pong without paddles. It is always nice to see him. Fun. And he buys me a beer last night. Mud Puppy Porter. His favorite.
He's taking off monday for his annual 'Golf Across Canada' trip. He starts in Missoula and goes all across Alberta, Saskatchewan and into British Columbia. I know he has been doing this for about fourteen years. Talks about it all year.
"Gees, Joe, I bet they don't see too many middle-aged six foot seven black guys golfing in Alberta, huh?"
"No, they don't, son, it adds to the fun like you would not believe! I think I am the first Brother most of the dudes have EVER seen! And I get to play through as much as I like!"
Now I have totally forgotten why I was pissed off. Joe tells nice stories. Lotta detail. How pretty the golf courses are. How someone once mistook him for Bill Russell and bought him dinner and drinks. "I'm no fool! If some dumb Canadian wants to buy me dinner.... I should stop him?"
Friends are good. Life can be good. I can buy some powder for the athlete's foot tomorrow.