I think we need some legislation to limit how many songs a person can play on a jukebox. I was in a bar playing my favorite bar game ‘Funky Monkey’ and my friend played over 30 songs on the Jukebox. That’s complete B.S. At that point you should just rent out the place and hire your own DJ. Where’s his jukebox etiquette?! He basically held the place hostage. I mean, I like Sublime as much as the next guy but we don’t need to hear 3 of their albums in a row in a bar. Give me “Midnight Train to Georgia” or give me death!
Archive for March, 2005
Jukeboxes should tell you how long you’re going to have to wait to hear your songs. I refuse to leave a place until the songs I paid for play. I don’t care how boring it is or how tired I am. Even if the place catches on fire I’ll hang out by the door, trying to hear my songs while the firefighters bust in.
“Get the Hell out of here!! The place might blow!!”
“As soon as I hear ‘Midnight Train to Georgia’, I’ll leave. Get off me…let me go…someone owes me a dollar…”
So I’m in the chair getting oral surgery. It’s as bad as it sounds. The guy is to cut bone from behind my molar and move it to my front gums. All this and I’m wide awake. Luckily for me, they gave me an I-Pod loaded with the Beatles’ greatest hits. I could barely hear the drilling, and scraping over “Love Me Do.” I usually keep my eyes closed but I had the inclination to keep my eyes open. Deep down I wanted to watch what he did in case I was ever in a position where I had to do a bone graft. Like if civilization was wiped out and there were no oral surgeons left but someone needed a bone graft, I could step up and say “I can’t promise anything but I’ll try my best…”. Then proceed to do the perfect bone graft. I looked up but it seemed to make him uncomfortable. The last thing I need is a self-conscious surgeon in my mouth. So I closed my eyes and listened to the Beatles psychedelic phase. He actually added cow bone to my own to build the gum line. It worked fine but all of a sudden I want to go grazing and I never go home.
We’ve all had that friend over our house or on the phone we just couldn’t get rid of. And no matter how many hints you dropped they just didn’t get it. Well, one day you find yourself in a situation and realize you’re that person. It’s terrifying when you realize your friends have been trying to get rid of you. How long have they been trying? How many hints did you miss? Godfather 1 and 2 were cool but maybe watching Godfather 3 was overkill. Maybe they didn’t want to play that 5th game of Pictionary. I thought it was odd that he drew a picture of me leaving and the answer was “Golden Nugget.”
So, I was very pleased with my 12 dollar mall massage. I wasn’t sure how much to tip the guy. I kinda wanted to tip 2 bucks. That way I could give him a twenty, get back a five and still have a dollar I could use for licorice ( I like my candy circa 1850.) But alas, I felt silly not giving him the whole 3 dollars. He took the 3 dollars from me like I had just handed him a snot-filled sock from the foot of a homeless guy. Good thing I didn’t give him a 2 dollar tip.