Saturday, September 21, 2013

Crazy Eyes

This might have been my longest time in between entries since I started back in 2005, and there is only one thing that could get me motivated to start writing again . . . Making fun of someone!  It's one of the major flaws of bloggers; the fact that we observe people, make mental notes of all the crap they tell us, and mentally construct blog posts where we will make fun of them at a later date.  But as Crazy Eyes (the subject of this post) cornered me at the bar when I was all alone with no escape, I knew she secured herself a blog post in the very near future.

Crazy Eyes is a barfly.  There's just no nicer way to say it.  She works at the bar where my buddy, Southie, has bar tended every Friday night for the last 13 years, and I'm pretty sure Crazy Eyes hasn't missed a Friday in all those years.  I had nothing going on last night so I figured I would go visit Southie who ended up being quite busy in there so he wasn't able to hang out with me much.  Ordinarily being alone at a bar isn't a big deal, but on this warm Chicago nigh, Crazy Eyes sucked onto me like a barnacle and wouldn't let go.

She looks like the big sister on "South Park."  It was driving me nuts trying to think who she looks like, and it suddenly hit me that she looks like a cartoon character designed to be obnoxious, and she succeeds towards those ends without even trying or having the benefit of writers and artists.  There is something in those eyes that can be quite maddening too.  They have an intense look in them, and her eye balls seem to dart around like a lizard at nothing in particular.  You just can't help but get caught up in those crazy eyes while she rambles and spits on you.

That's right.  She spits when she talks.  This has got to be her worst quality.  I remember at one point rolling down the sleeves of my sweatshirt so at least my forearms would be protected from the saliva shower I was enduring.  You would think that she would see the pattern of everyone wiping their faces when they talk to her, and this would tip her off that maybe she was spitting a touch to much.  Perhaps it's that slobbery quality of her voice and the loss of her faculties due to the extreme amounts of booze she ingests that makes her lose control of her spit.  Which reminds me . . . 

She drinks like a fish.  If you have been around this blog for more than a few posts, it's pretty clear that I have a similar problem.  Hell, I even shocked myself to find that some of the highest subjects tagged have been "drinking," "bars," and "the bar."  However, I like to think that I can be an entertaining and intellectual drunk.  Poor Crazy Eyes just gets lit up like a Christmas tree and has even less interesting things to say.  She told me all about her spin classes and her roommate who likes Japanimation a little too much, and I had nowhere to go until more friends arrived.  I just listened, watched those crazy eyes, and got sprayed with the spit.  Oh yeah . . . 

. . . Her mouth isn't the only thing that sprays.  I hate to say it, but I know at least three guys who have said "what the hell," and took her home after last call.  I guess ladies who drink like animals and wear lingerie and garter belts in public aren't that hard to bed.  But my one buddy said that she squirted all over his sheets.  He told me this happened every time they got down, and he said "I just didn't have enough linen to keep fuckin' that broad."

Sorry.  That was crude, but it was funny and just couldn't be left out.  

How about you, Seven Readers, do you have anyone brutal in your life that you would like to talk about in the comments today?


Anonymous said...

Great read. Eyes like a lizard darting! Love it. Imagine being a bar tender and having to see that all the time. YIKES!

David Oliver said...

Being single for 20 years doesn't necessarily mean I've dated anyone I would have brain surgery to get rid of the memory, but unfortunately, I have. Thankfully no spitters. You have my sympathy there. Not much though since you didn't take her home.

The 'toon helped but you did great describing the wretched lady. Rather than see her in my mind, I could feel the spray of spit and those eyes darting around and landing on me.

Kenneth Noisewater said...

Southie: To put up with her every Friday, you should demand a raise. And maybe you could give customers sneeze guards like a salad bar to strap over their faces for when we talk to her?

David: Very good to hear. I think you have a solid understanding of her awfulness. You want her number?

David Oliver said...

That's okay Kenneth. I think I've got it. Number 10 right?

Gorilla Bananas said...

She sounds like a woman in need of a redneck boyfriend with a pick-up truck who finds her weirdness sexy. She must enjoy sex if she's a squirter.

Anonymous said...

So...are you guys serious?

Kenneth Noisewater said...

David: I do believe it's 867-5309. I got the number on the wall.

Bananas: I didn't ask if she enjoys it or not, but if she wears lingerie in public, it doesn't seem like she hates it. Yuck, I don't want to think about her doing it.

Just: I'm always serious. Especially about crazy people, squirting, and spitting.