January 15, 2008

What really happened at Karl's house

So here I am at work, on my computer, as per usual for Tuesday afternoons. I felt the urge to play spider solitaire, but at the instant that I saw my mouse pointer hover over the spider icon in my "Recently Used Crap" area of the Start menu, my mind was suddenly overcome by dark and apparently repressed memories from my New Year's trip to Karl's house.

It must've been on Sunday, while Karl was taking his hour-long Hollywood shower. I happened to notice his dad, George, playing spider solitaire. Now, you must realize that in my Airgas days, I spent about 6 hours a day playing that game. So fancying myself somewhat of a decent Spidder (that's the lingo), I challenged Big George to a match.

I easily won the first game, and I could tell Big George was getting pissed because afterwards he screamed "GOD DAMMIT! I'M GOING TO EAT YOU IF I LOSE AGAIN!" Back then, I was much younger and stupider, and not even the beast George Laufenberg threatening cannabalism could stop me from claiming a spider solitaire victory so I whooped him like a peanut butter and jelly sangwoggio (Italian for sandwich) beats a parakeet at being spelling bees.

Big G walked out of the room dejected and despondent. It was over. He was not going to eat me.

Then I heard the sound of a chainsaw and thought to myself, "That sounds like a chainsaw." I turned around and there he was, hoisting the chainsaw high over his head and weeping like a wee babe would weep.

Luckily, I never travel without my sword at my hip, and I unsheathed it. We battled for what seemed like minutes. Then Karl was FINALLY done getting ready (he took at least 3 hours) and we left.

Moral: Don't beat Big George at spider solitaire.