Shoup Airlines

The one where you make the deal with your friend to get married at 40 if all else fails, but not quite…

If you could combine all the nights of alcoholic induced revelry, you could get an idea of tonight’s festivities. Imagine all your friends from different sects of life coming together in one night and analyzing your life…with alcohol. The only thing missing was the “numb”* Puertoriqueño, damn I miss him! Did I mention there was alcohol?

The night kicked off with celebrating a good friend’s job placement. Unfortunately, I wasn’t informed of this at first and found myself well behind in the drink quota. No need to fret, people!! I caught up quickly and then passed in typical fashion. This is where the evening became fun. In the course of maybe a three hour outing, high school friends were discussed, college friends were dissed, and furloughs were waxed nostalgic (no, I’m not gay).

It did not help that I had had a full day’s helping of my new found better half and an exciting adventure with Apus 1, 2, and 3 (to be blogged about later because I still need to sleep sometime tonight). Let’s just say I had the sarcasm at 12½ for every conversation, every hour, all night. I know, irritating, but deal with it.

At some point, my “dating” life comes up, which seems to happen a lot, and is discussed ad naseum. For those that don’t know, I’m pretty inept in this area for unexplained reasons. I have been given the LAMEST excuses for grounds of separation from “you’re just not my type” to “you never told me you could swim!?!?”** Needless to say, I roll my eyes A LOT. Anyway, Mr. Recently Employed and Miss Recently Unemployed (better half of Recently Employed) take it upon themselves to set me up. We won’t mention the fact that I’ve been sitting idle for the last seven months!! Or the fact that I have become SERIOUSLY skeptical of blind dates…

“Oh? I appreciate the thoughtfulness, but why wait this long to try and set me up?” (There has to be a catch!)

“No reason…she’s perfect for you, you’ve both sent your last couple of exes to the altar.”

“Oh great, based on this cracker jack philosophy we’re two peas in a pod and will live happily ever after, right!?!?!?”

“Sure, why not!” A long, silent, yet not very awkward pause…ah, the real reason is creeping forth, I sense it.

“Okay, she is just getting out of a VERY long term relationship.” This is said with a straight face!!

- Sigh -

And there it is, there’s always a catch. This is coming razor close to the blind date setup in which the gal’s boyfriend had died two months before.** I kid you not!! A train wreck before it ever left the station. I know everyone means well, but COME ON, use some common sense, please!! I’m not all that keen to this, but said couple will not drop it so I pull out my ace and ask if said blind date likes sarcasm, the ultimate conversation killer and something I never use like Picasso used paint by number. “Um, not really.” Knight takes Queen…

At this point, the conversation evolves into my lack of ability to talk to women at bars (this is where high school friends are discussed). I comment that the bar wench is fairly attractive, and wait for the standard response. Only the standard response doesn’t come. Damn, that’s right, the standard responders are in Ohio and Minnesota (this is where furloughs are waxed nostalgic). I find myself missing the comment, “I’d do her,” for the first time ever! Sick, I know, but you grow accustomed to it. Just trust me on this. The picture painted: I’m not that suave with the ladies and have piss poor luck with the ones I seem to somehow have suaved.

Suddenly, out of left field like a Jeff Kent clinch homer, R.Ue. makes the statement that Shoup will be married and have kids within five years. This is where the whole bar comes to a screeching halt, kind of like that cheesy movie moment where the popular hot chick confesses her love for the uber-geek of the high school. Yeah, exactly like that. I smell a bet, Mr. R.E. places the wager, and Miss R.Ue. shakes on it.

Forthwith, all who read this are witnesses to the following:

Stipulation agreed upon by all three above signed: If Shoup should be found at loss in aforementioned wager, he shall pay forth One Benjamin each to BOTH Kara DeAnne Dodge and Nathan Reid Pietila.

*Numb – puertoriqueño for: “falling down drunk, yet not admittedly DRUNK!”

**These will be explained in future blogs, I just figured passing mentions here wouldn’t do them justice. Plus I only have about 2 hours to sleep and then get up and go get yelled at by Sergeant Moody. Hoooah!

***Two little Shoups will be defined as the pitter-patter of two separate pair of feet running down the hallway, or one pair running down the hallway and the other still kicking in the womb,**** or twins both kicking in the womb and giving their poor mother one hell of a time.

****Still kicking in the womb shall be defined as first medical confirmation of pregnancy to birth.

P.S. If anyone else wants in on this action, contact either me by leaving a comment here or by contacting Mr. R.E. or Miss R.Ue. by their respective means. Thank you.

P.S.S. If any of you were wondering where in the evening the college friends were dissed, that was pretty much just sporadically throughout the night.

Did I happen to mention that alcohol was partook?