A good conversation is one of my favorite things. Conversations in bars are even better (just add alcohol).
Oh the things we find in our walks in the woods.
No one wants to die in a stupid way. Something that will end up a punch line of their life once they are gone. Preferably, I would like to die in my sleep and, one night a few years ago, I almost got my wish.
Anyone who has read my blog knows I write about my ex-wife, Arlene, a good deal of the time. Now, before you think this is some angry ex-husband rant, you’d be wrong.
If, in the future, I am given one-time only access to a time machine, I would not go back to talk to Jesus, nor would I go back and kill the baby Hitler. What I would do is go back to 10 seconds before this conversation took place, and punch my 18-year-old self right in the mouth.
Who wouldn’t be thrilled to get a call from the band and be told that, unless I can get to the venue by six-thirty that night, the show won’t go on.
Each Monday night a group of us play trivia at a bar in Annandale (New Jersey). Its a big bar and a very friendly group of teams.
That is, it was until last Monday.
When you work for a company a long time, you meet good people and, not so much bad people, just people you’d rather not want to associate with on a daily basis.
This car went from zero to repair shop in sixty-seconds flat…