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RSSA Gentleman Takes his Broken Wings and Learns to Fly Again
August 20th, 2009
Sometimes a gentleman just isn’t himself and it takes a grotesque amount of gallivanting, a liberal amount of booze and of course the loyal services of a fellow gent-in-arms to resuscitate our hero and get him back in the saddle again. And what a glorious sight it truly is to behold a gentleman rediscovering his gentlemanliness! Returning to the strict path of the gentlemanly arts, we watch as our protagonist takes his first fledgling steps as if he were but a wee chickadee, and, lo and behold and a few dozen highballs later, he’s suddenly soaring like a majestic Condor skimming the glacial peaks of the Andes Mountains as Paparazzi snap their cameras like a bunch of giddy ornithologists trying to document the sublime existence of this rare creature. Remember, in a city awash with scenesters, schemers and similar buffoons, only a gentleman can rise above this flotsam of fools and transform a regular weekday evening into his own personal comeback tour.
Pronto: i feel like shit
Pronto: and i stink to high hell of whiskey
Pronto: the underlings surely suspect something
Pronto: but good god man i am so happy you started drinking again
Pronto: last night was a thing of beauty
Pronto: a revelation!
GrownDanger: well, i don’t want to say i was totally awesome last night, cause that would just sound arrogant…
Pronto: fine
Pronto: i’ll say it
Pronto: you were totally awesome last night
GrownDanger: awwww shucks…
Pronto: if i could, i’d transport over to your office right now and plant a big old kiss on your ugly mug
GrownDanger: hahahahaha
GrownDanger: yeah it was a fantastic night
GrownDanger: it felt like a victory lap or sorts
Pronto: hahahha
Pronto: cause, to be honest, for the past few months i’ve gotta admit i’ve been worried
Pronto: you were never around!
GrownDanger: yeah sorry about that
GrownDanger: what the hell was i thinking not drinking for 3 months?
GrownDanger: NY Marathon? fuck that noise!
Pronto: hahaha and he’s BACK!!
GrownDanger: running 26 miles is unnatural
Pronto: most unnatural
Pronto: how are you gonna break it to that blind dude you were supposed to run it with?
GrownDanger: leaving that up to mandy*, it was her idea in the first place
GrownDanger: i’m no guide dog
GrownDanger: she can consider breaking the news to the dude punishment for treating me like a k9
Pronto: hahahaha
Pronto: i shall dub thee booze mongrel!
GrownDanger: beer bloodhound!
GrownDanger: i sniff out all the ales and pints this city has to offer and then confiscate it into my belly
Pronto: hahaha
Pronto: my favorite moments from last night?
GrownDanger: haha uh oh, what?
Pronto: and there are many
GrownDanger: go on…
Pronto: you stealing a bottle of JB from behind the bar and slipping it into your bag
Pronto: then asking the bartender for her phone number
Pronto: which you promptly called, only to discover she’d given you a fake
GrownDanger: oh lord
Pronto: then pointing your finger in her face while yelling, “aha! you cannot out fox a fox!”
Pronto: then walking out and lifting the stolen bottle of JB out of your bag and yelling back
Pronto: “we are taking this as compensation for your rudeness and lying”
Pronto: she just stood there in shock
GrownDanger: god i am awful when drunk
Pronto: correction, you are awesome
GrownDanger: hahah well at least that bottle served us well on the dance floor at that next place
GrownDanger: what was it called again?
Pronto: no clue, but this leads us to moment #2
Pronto: which is when you shoved your head in the DJ booth and demanded Thin Lizzy be played lest you hold the bar hostage with a rifle from Big Buck Hunter
GrownDanger: hahahahahaha, he grabbed me by the face and pushed me out of the booth
Pronto: rightfully so
Pronto: #3 is when we passed those hipsters wearing all the neon on orchard
Pronto: and you asked them to all stand together so you could snap a photo cause they looked like one of those magic paintings that reveals, like, a sailboat or something if you stare at it long enough
GrownDanger: hahahaha
GrownDanger: they were, like, soooo whatever man
Pronto: yeah you were no match for their ambivalence and their borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered 80s
GrownDanger: i hope they know i was the first guy who played daft punk to the rock kids
GrownDanger: but really i was just jealous of their youth and lack of pot bellies
Pronto: hahaha
Pronto: and finally, the triumph of the night was you beating out those frat bros for a cab
GrownDanger: hahaha oh shit i forgot about that
Pronto: it was hysterical
Pronto: they totally swarmed this tourist couple who had come out of Katz’s and were patiently waiting for one
Pronto: and they were totally gonna take their cab
Pronto: and you yell “oh hell no, not in my town, boys!”
Pronto: and you fucking took off, almost checked the dude as he was opening the door and held them at bay while you beckoned the couple in
GrownDanger: haha yeah. the couple didn’t even thank me. they just looked at me in horror and got into the cab as fast as they could
GrownDanger: i think they thought i was a lunatic
Pronto: hahaha yeah they are probably back in sioux city iowa now telling all their friends how crazy and awful new york is
GrownDanger: probably
GrownDanger: and those dudes were PISSED
GrownDanger: they called me a faggot…what a bunch of clowns
Pronto: whatever, your actions were heroic
GrownDanger: they truly were
GrownDanger: maybe with all this free time not running has cleared up in my schedule i’ll start fighting crime…become an urban vigilante
Pronto: you probably could
GrownDanger: so does my gallantry at the end of the night make up for my earlier sins?
Pronto: what, trying to cheat on your girlfriend or leaving a blind man whose only dream is to run the marathon high and dry?
GrownDanger: when you put it that way i feel bad…
Pronto: i should say your karma remains bad
GrownDanger: whatever, i’ll donate my eyes and penis to charity then
GrownDanger: happy?
Pronto: hahahaha
Pronto: was mandy* pissed at how late you were out?
GrownDanger: not really
GrownDanger: she was more mad that i’d brought a meatball sub to bed
GrownDanger: and that this morning there were a few errant meatballs and marinara sauce on the sheets
Pronto: UH OH
GrownDanger: yeah our bedroom looked like a crime scene
GrownDanger: i’m drafting an apology email now
GrownDanger: whatever, worth it
Pronto: totally worth it
GrownDanger: awesome night
Pronto: totes magotes!
August 20th, 2009 at 9:00 pm
Always great when a gentleman can look into the Magic Eye painting that is a weeknight and see through to the mariachi band of boozing just below the surface.
August 21st, 2009 at 2:47 am
Good to see that gents are back in the saddle. Good form! However, said wench “Mandy” should be informed that a true Gentleman must keep his nutrient level (and subsequent pot-belly) in good shape, thereby making the late-night meatball sub after copious libations acceptable at worst, but more likely a necessity.
Cheers!
August 21st, 2009 at 3:26 pm
Fuckin’ A.
August 21st, 2009 at 11:57 pm
At first, I was going to unleash hell upon this gentleman for not drinking for 3 months. However, upon learning of his undeniably heroic, stalwart, and drunken actions, I’d have to say that I can only aspire to be as daring and witty as this gentleman.
Hell, not only are his actions a beautiful reminder of what it is to be a gentleman in our time, but the conversation itself reads like an epic poem, with three separate challenges that confront our hero.
It has been months, but finally, Foggy Monocle, we have left the flat, windless sea of fratboy douchebag antics and continued sailing on our voyage towards more refined and entertaining drunken tribulations.
August 22nd, 2009 at 9:24 am
lame…. blind man? stealing a cab? that was every cliche in the book. boring……………..
August 23rd, 2009 at 4:41 am
Kudos…not to the story, but to Rankmaster Timmons’ reply. THAT was a truly gentleman-esque response.
August 24th, 2009 at 12:07 pm
Respek, The Dude. I”m just glad to you that you’re out there, takin’ er easy for all of us.