Archive for the ‘ Happy Hour Hot Topics ’ Category

Turns Out Maturity Does Not Always Come With (Advanced) Age

Last Thursday we arrived at Shanahan’s at 4:30 for the St. Patrick’s Day festivities. The front room was packed so we headed to the back and it was just as jammed. One of the servers noticed us as we walked in and said a booth had just opened up and we’d better run. Well a woman sitting on a bench against the wall overheard her and jumped up to run to grab it herself. Fortunately Karma had other plans for her and she tripped and stumbled injuring herself enough to slow her down. I went around the other side of the pool table slipped between a couple that was clearly confused by the mass of people and tossed my purse  5 feet or so on to the table. VICTORY! STEP OFF BITCH! What? Shanahan’s is the place to be on St. Patrick’s Day and we needed a home base for coats, bags, plates of corned beef and cabbage and beer stores. You would’ve done the same thing and you know it.

When WMFS returned with our iced teas  he commented that it smelled like moth balls, maybe sawdust, and it wasn’t a dig against anyone it really did smell like moth balls and I started looking around at the other Irish-for-a-day patrons. And if you weren’t there to see it you may not believe me but there was a group of about 40 people who’s ages ranged from what I would guess were 55 to 99. There were canes and I’m pretty sure at least one walker. It was a fucking gang of geriatrics! It was a sight to behold and I fucking took to Facebook and posted as much!

Here’s how it went down:

While it isn’t my wittiest post it certainly isn’t my most offensive. Or so I thought. Red took issue with it, as you can see by her comments. Yellow, who is in the age group as well clearly didn’t and posted the best comment of the bunch because it pretty much sums up his St. Patrick’s Day.

Fun Size got a message from Red today saying she was no longer coming to Happy Hour Hot Topics. And I wouldn’t be suspicious that this was the reason on its own, maybe she’s too busy with other commitments, maybe she just isn’t 100% after a recent surgery, but not this? So I went to my friends list to pull her up and shoot her a message to make sure. And people, she unfriended me. Like a 17-year-old little girl, she unfriended me. What the ever-loving fuck?

Should I feel bad? It was her age group that I posted about, but certainly not her peers. Red is incredibly active, bright, funny, she dresses fabulously and everyone adores her. The geriatric gang? Not so much. I think our server had to check a couple of them for signs of life.

The next day I learned that they are a 40+ (no shit?) singles group, most of them ordered coffee or water and they didn’t tip their server for shit despite taking up 40 seats in the back room on the bars busiest day of the year. There was a line to get in! These old ass farts seriously cut into the revenue for the night, I guaranfuckingtee it! Given those circumstances I don’t feel a bit bad about posting about their lame asses.

What really yanks my chain is that this intelligent woman in her 70’s gets her support hose in a bunch and reacts as though she’s in high school. Someone please explain this to me?



One Year

It’s been a year that we’ve been at this relationship advice thing. Swear on my gin that I didn’t think we’d make it six weeks. I told more than one person I’d play along for 3 months and by then The Dreamer would be on to her next project or I’d be sick of hanging out with chicks. I’ll be honest; I max out my threshold for chick bullshit regularly. My patience for anyone else’s estrogen inspired crazy is nearly nonexistent hence the reason I surround myself with a lot of dicks.

So yeah, one year; I’ve even learned some things:

  1. If I can’t wait to get to happy hour, happy hour is probably the last thing I need. (Shots!)
  2. If I have no desire to go to happy hour, it is probably exactly what I need.
  3. I love a One Night Stand as much as the next Go to Girl, but I prefer our Booty Calls; they know how we like it.
  4. We suck at taking our own relationship advice.
  5. We excel at taking our own sex advice. (Cock karaoke rocks!)
  6. To everyone’s amazement, I really enjoy hanging out with these women. Obviously, they’re hot, but also because they are whip-ass smart, hysterical, and bring zero drama to the party.
  7. Even more amazing, they’re still hanging out with me. I’m not saying they enjoy it, I’m just saying it’s still happening.
  8. Wine drinking gloves are necessary

What About Bob

You guys, I cannot believe I forgot to tell you about Bob. Last Wednesday two of the other Go to Girls and I were at Shanahan’s earlier than the rest of the group so we had the pleasure of meeting Bob.

The Dreamer, The Girl Next Door and I are enjoying our first beverage of the night when Bob stumbled past us on his way out for a cigarette. I’d say Bob is oh… about 102 years old. He staggered his drunk ass back to our table (the big round one for those in the know) and leaned in to pay us a compliment “you ladiesh are haaat. Don’t lesh anyone in here tell you (bobble), tell you diff’ent.”  Hearing a drunken 102 year old man use the word hot in that sense was actually pretty hysterical. We thanked him and he returned to his original task of smoking. But of course, he had to come back in which meant he had to pass our table again. This time we learned that he’s regular, this piece of information made the three of us stare blankly at each other for a moment because, um…we’re pretty damned regular and had never seen this character before in our lives. But whatever, Bob’s a regular. We went about our business for a while and then it was time for another smoke break. Of course he stopped by our table again, and this time he had and offer he was sure we couldn’t refuse. “I live with my daughter and watch my grandson mosh days exchept Wednesdays. How about we go back there and have a foursome?”

What? The? Fuck?

Naturally this cracked us up; we just got asked by a 102 year old drunk guy to be in a foursome. Now that’s a first! And fuckin’ funny!

But then I started thinking, wait? He’s old and drunk, so of course we look good to him. Er, could this be why reasonably aged, mildly buzzed guys don’t hit on us??! Are we that wrecked? Oh hell. This just took a turn from funny to depressing. I ordered another the glass of wine so I could drink until we were cute.

Bob stumbled back in, apparently while he was smoking he came up with a better idea, “ladiesh, my gran’shon is probably home so inshted wish one of you is taking (wobble), taking meee home wishyoo?” I briefly contemplated ways I could just off myself; unfortunately I’m not McGuiver and could not figure out how to do it with a ketchup jar, napkin holder, and Tabasco bottle. While Bob’s proposition was again funny and depressing, it was getting old, we had some serious official Happy Hour Hot Topics business to get to and Bob was impeding our progress.

Fortunately the rest of the group started filtering in and Bob found himself a distraction with a game of pool so we had an hour or so to tackle the serious business of doling out relationship advice. We solved some rather complicated problems for people. What?! “Do guys notice a stray hair…” is complicated. Shut up.

Anyway, Bob made one more appearance at the table, our gentlemanly One Night Stand made himself more useful than most of them and dismissed Bob. But Bob wasn’t having it; he made his way to our side of the table, pointed at our One Night Stand and slurred “he doshen’t have a clue. He doeshen’t even know” like we all shared some connection and secret.

Bob left; I hit the lady’s room, returned and ordered another class of wine because I still hadn’t managed to drink until we were as hot as Bob believed us to be.

I’m Alive! Mostly.

Holy shit you guys last week was insane. Monday I spent recovering from the Super Bowl, which mostly entailed lounging around watching more Black Ops and then finally dragging it to Shanahan’s for food around 3:00 pm. I’m high-class people.

I am so glad I took Monday off, but not for the original reason of damage control, oh no, I am so glad I had the day off because the rest of the week was an awesomely awesome ass kicking thanks to what I affectionately refer to as our Company Love In. The Company Love In was a 3 day meeting spread over 4 days that included a lot of idea sharing and warm fuzzy togetherness. Wednesday was casino night so brilliantly I asked the Go to Girls to meet in the hotel bar so I could bounce back and forth between HHHT and work shenanigans. And although I didn’t contribute much to the answers that night, I think my contribution of some delicious eye candy in the form of a couple single coworkers bought me a pass for the week. Thursday was my contribution to the love in, The Talent(less) Show. People! This show rocked like I had no fucking idea it would. It came together so well, the talent was hysterical and genuine and just fucking awesome. My master of ceremonies can do no wrong in my eyes at the moment, he was amazing, and totally born to play that part.  People are talking about the next one, but there is no way to follow that show up with another one so for next year I’ll have to have something completely different but equally awesome. The wheels are turning and will be greased repeatedly with wine until the best idea ever is concocted.

I followed that up with a Friday night at Shanahan’s and a spur of the moment trip to a strip club with a cast of characters that probably didn’t belong in a strip club.  We had one person that is on the fence about strip clubs because her boyfriends ex was a stripper. Yes I said ex, as in before he knew her. But to hear her talk about it, you’d think he dated a stripper to intentionally cause problems in a future relationship he had no clue would exist. Add to that we had an employer taking her 21-year-old assistant out. You can see where this is going, we’ve got fresh meat for the boys, a possible couples argument, and definitely a sexual harassment lawsuit. Man, do we know how to have fun!

Saturday was even more random with a stop at Main Event for dinner and then an impromptu meeting with The BFF’s cousins. People we went to Oscars and I will never again give that place another dollar. The bartenders are the cuntiest cunts I’ve ever come across and the owner has the decency of a child molester. I got kicked out for trying to pay my tab, I’m not even kidding. A member of our entourage got x-ed and escorted out. WMFS asked for our tab, 10 minutes later we still don’t have it and so I ask for it. The cuntenders are seriously just standing their talking to each other. I said excuse me we need our tab and the 1st cuntender responded with “I GOT FIREBALL SPLASHED IN MY EYES!” with flailing arms and all sorts of drama. I responded “Why is that stopping her from pushing buttons and getting me my tab?” Immediately they were both signaling to the bouncers that I was to be kicked out. I’m still not speaking to WMFS because his dumb ass tipped them more than he tips our regular awesome bartenders in an asinine attempt to smooth things over. We were already kicked out? How was that going to help? Arrrggggg!

We walked to Irish Town for another round, headed to Shari’s for some food and then called a cab. The last time I had my wallet was in the cab. I’m still waiting to hear back…I’ve called three times and the one person that can get into the safe hasn’t shown up for work yet. The dispatcher has been really nice but I’m not impress with the fact that someone with the ability to do shit for a customer isn’t available. Garrrrrrhhhh!

Edited to add: My wallet is gone. This is officially the shittiest Monday in a very long time.

Someone Please Stage an Intervention

Look, I need some serious help. I had cold gin and vodka as well as wine at my disposal last night and I… um, well…the first step is admitting you have a problem right?

OK, here goes.

I didn’t drink any of it.


Thirty-one days without an adult beverage. The first thirty made me want to junk-punch newborn babies, but yesterday was a whole new hell; it was voluntary. It was wrong.

Truth be told, I’m intimidated by the hang over that I am all but guaranteed when that first drink hits my lips. My head is actually throbbing just thinking about it. Speaking of headaches; I took ibuprofen exactly once in January. Not only did Shanahan’s loose a chunk of revenue, so did Pfizer. It is clearly my obligation to society to get off this damned wagon and do my part to stimulate the economy again via gin and over the counter pain relief!

So tonight at Happy Hour Hot Topics, I’m taking the first step in my (and the economy’s) recovery. Who’s with me? Who is going to come out tonight and hold my hand? And possibly my hair.

Day Twenty-five


Tonight was the LAST of the lame Happy Hour Hot Topics. Well at least from the perspective of not drinking that is. Shut  up. Being and advice column is hard. Good group, mostly. We hit The Quay again, because damn if they don’t have an awesome happy hour menu. The grilled artichoke and the Asian salad are my all time favorites. Stay away from the cheese plate though, it’s pathetic.

I have one more weekend to survive. I’m thinking monster trucks or bowling. Does anyone know if there is a monster truck show? Because tube tops and mullets are always funny even without beer. And people, when I say bowling I’m not talking Big Al’s because there is no way I’m going within 100 feet of that brat trap without alcohol, I won’t even link to it without alcohol! Nope I’m talking real bowling at Hazel Dell Lanes bitches. Whoop whoop! Who’s with me?

On a brighter note, the chances of me slicing your throat for breathing to loudly are diminished slightly by the re-introduction of food I can chew. The Master Cleanse is over. Was it worth it? Meh, if I had it to do over again, I would’ve started with that on the 2nd instead of that bullshit Whole30 then ate really clean for the rest of the time. Since I had already cut out dairy, flour, sugar, taste, enjoyment out of my diet before starting the cleanse, I don’t think the impact was as great.

Things I chewed today:
Chicken and black beans from Chevy’s
Asian salad
Sweet potato fries
a pickle

Day Twenty

Ten days left. Can you stand it?! Only one more weekend. Wanna hear something crazy? Since the 30th day will be a Tuesday…I may go thirty-one days and just pop my cherry at HHHT the next day. I told you it was crazy. I’m not promising that or anything, but that may be how it goes down.

Still doing the Master Cleanse which I will not discuss for fear of jinxing myself. I am also still lusting after some delicious delicious foods.  I’m over the cheese smut from yesterday and have moved into a different realm, behold my latest collection of Food Porn!

Endive, Pear and Roquefort Salad

Smoothies! (Except the date one, yuck)

Braised Short Ribs

Mixed Lettuces with Grapefruit, Goat Cheese and Black Pepper 

Filet au Poivre