We all have our dreams, our goals, what we want to do and where we hope life will take us. But I wonder how many of you out there truly understand the delicate nature of the paths we tread, how a single fateful moment can change the course of our destiny, how far off one wrong decision can pull us from fulfillment.
Mike was a hardworking man, constructed a living from his sweat and blood, but he too wanted more. Like many of us, he hoped to one day meet the girl of his dreams, settle down, get married.
There was a deep seated desire that poured from the center of his soul to share his music with the world, get out on tour, play before packed houses in exotic locations and party it up with celebrities. Though, if it came down to it, Mike would have settled for buying a drink for his idol, his inspiration, Frank Turner, and see how crazy the night could get.
When one works hard, they party hard too; its almost a necessity, something that must be done to make it all worth it. And Mike knew how to party!
That party was at Mike's place this time around, but what's a party without the one essential ingredient.... BEER?! The days had been so long, so rough, that he hadn't had time to stop at the store. He was fresh out of the most glorious invention of all time, and soon enough his group of misfits would be descending upon his man cave full of dreams of drunken debauchery.
What was a guy to do in moments like this? He'd have to find a place to stop, pick something up, at least enough to get things going.... and then he saw it.
So often we find ourselves calling out to some higher power, some beneficial force, that when things appear to us out of thin air we choose to take them as divine events meant to save us from our plight. But sometimes, just sometimes, when something appears too good to be true, that's precisely what it is.
"Free beer with donation" the sign in the window read, as if just for him. It was a sign from God; Mike and the boys would be partying hard tonight.... and I don't mean in a soup kitchen.
"Whatsa matta boy?" she answered in an accent he couldn't place, "you tink dis called The Jerk Hut fa nuttin?" And then her face gnarled into a twisted smile. "We aint be servin chicken here."
There's a major advantage in the animal world, a gift not granted to human men.
If it HAD been granted, we would never get ourselves into this sort of trouble, but then, we'd probably never leave the house either. Mike caught on to just what type of donation it was going to take when she snapped a rubber glove over her outstretched hand, pointing towards the back room with a grin.
At that moment a vision flashed in his mind at just what these drink fests could degenerate to.....
Looking around, it didn't seem as if anyone could ever find out, and here he had a guarantee. Besides, the happy ending would let him relax for the rest of the night. He'd be set, no matter what kind of sausage fest the night turned into, and none of his buddies would ever know. Who cares that she was old as dirt?
"So, uh.... what kind of beer is it?"
After two showers Mike still felt dirty, but there was just no way to cleanse his soul. Friends piled into the living room, poured into the yard, but it didn't take long to realize that things had gone desperately wrong.
"Our own special brew" is probably never an acceptable answer when asking what you're drinking from a place called "The Jerk Hut" that's giving happy endings out back. But Mike wasn't thinking clearly anymore at that point, his manhood had taken over, and what real man can turn down free beer and sexual gratification simultaneously, no matter WHAT package either came in?
When the guests began dropping like flies the horrific notion came to him.... exactly what was it tainting those beers?
Gone was the dream of tropical vacations; there would be no playing in packed houses in front of rabid crowds in far off exotic locations..... no longer was there hope of dream girls, of better days....
You just can't go swimming or get close to the ladies when you're forced to live out the rest of your days under quarantine.....
In a hazmat suit.
But don't be sad for Mike....
His time in the Jerk Hut wasn't all for naught
His donation didn't go to waste....
Man juice didn't fruit the beer; it was a certain guarantee that no one would pass that way twice which did that...
Mike's seed has been planted.
His bloodline will live on...
This is how babies are made.....
WHERE PEACOCKS DARE!
Special thanks to Mike Graci for taking up the picture challenge.
I hope I didn't disappoint.
Frank Turner kicked ass on Jimmy Kimmel Live last night.
He's so damn good. I'll be listening to his Pandora station all day today.
Beavis and Butthead reboots tonight - can't wait!
Later People!
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