As someone who has worked in the dress code enforcement industry, I have to say that “Road House,” while entertaining and probably Patrick Swayze’s cinematic opus, does not in any way reflect the realities of that job. I mean, we never had any guys with razor blades on their cowboy boots come in (for that matter, I remember seeing very few cowboy boots at all), nobody got their car dealership run over by Bigfoot (though that would have livened up a Sunday or two!) and we never, much to my dismay, found the opportunity to pick anybody up and slam them WWE-style through a table. What a letdown.
Haven’t been on the site for a few days. Almost panicked when I saw how long it had been since we’d heard from you. All is well though. Should have known I’d find you whooping it up in Crazy Talk.
BTW, keep drinking the coffee. You get more hilarious with every cup!
G-I, I’ll always be yukking it up in Crazy Talk, even if I’m not around to contribute….
Good timing on your post though, it coincided nicely with a trip to Baghdad that kept me away from the computer for a couple of days. Because of security concerns, I can’t announce trips like that beforehand, so I may drop off the radar from time to time, when I do fear not, I’ll be back and posting overcaffeinated late-night ravings again before you know it. Keep in mind that no news is good news, I might be traveling around or just can’t get on the net for some reason or other, we often lose internet access for days at a time for various reasons.
Baghdad, by the way, is completely bizarre at this point. The last lunch I ate there, I was sitting at a table wearing my uniform, pistol on my hip. To my left, there were a bunch of italian soldiers (I think they were soldiers) wearing the latest in eurotrash battle finery (think olive drab mesh t-shirts - the loose mesh you can completely see through, over-tight camo pants, etc). To my right, a table full of embassy muckety-mucks in well-pressed suits. I started to wish my boots were ruby-colored so I could click the heels three times and say “There’s no place like combat, there’s no place like combat….” It was like that scene from “Blazing Saddles” when the brawl spills into the movie studio caferteria, with folks dressed in costumes from about 14 different genre movies all mixing it up. I am actually glad to be back out in what those folks consider “the wild west.”
Italian soldiers (I think they were soldiers) wearing the latest in eurotrash battle finery (think olive drab mesh t-shirts - the loose mesh you can completely see through, over-tight camo pants, etc)
Can you bring some of those back for the dumpster gals? :wink:
