Date:May 19 2004
The following events are based on a true story. Well, as much as I
remember, considering my drunkeness at the time. The names have been changed
to protect the guilty, and any resemblence to people, living or dead, is
completely on purpose.
Richard, a 27 year old and balding alcoholic, sat on the porch of Ishmael on
a beautiful Saturday morning in early September. The air was crisp and had
the smell of football in the air. It was currently nine in the morning, so of
course we were drinking. In three hours, our college football team was going
to play a wonderful game, and we knew it.
There were four of us -- Richard, Ishmael, Mitch, and myself. We were
sitting around on the porch, drinking our cheap beer. Occassionally we would
get up and toss around our football for a few minutes, pretending as if we
were actually playing in the game. Then we would return to our perches on the
porch for more beer. This was considered to be a normal Football Saturday by
Richard broke the beer silence (the one where you say nothing at all unless
it has no relavence to anything important, such as "Beer rocks," or "We're so
going to win today." In both examples, it would have been appropriate for
everyone else around to nod their heads a bit and either grunt or say "yeah"
as a repsonce) with "You know guys, I've been thinking about something for a
while. There's a theory I have that I want to find out if it works."
"What's this theory," replied Ishmael.
Well, people that drive by on this street are normally ready for the game, ie
drunk, and they'll let you do about anything.
"What are you going to do?" asked Ishmael while the rest of us groaned. We
all knew that when Richard gets drinking, he comes up with some of the
craziest and dumbest ideas ever, and he manages to pull them off. There was
one time that he convinced Ishmael to run around the block naked on a Friday
night by singing "You've lost that feeling" to some girls.
"Wait and see..."
Well, we were wondering what he was going to do, but he just kept drinking his
beer. We were very happy about this for two reasons. First of all, we were
drinking beer. Secondly, he wasn't doing anything stupid, and in doing
something stupid, getting us to do something stupid. After that beer, we got
up to toss the pigskin around a bit more.
Now, it happens that while tossing a football around in the street, cars will
want to use the street as well. This particular car was a light blue Chevy
Cavalier. It stopped and waited for us to finish passing the ball and step
aside so that it could go through. Richard, being the closest to the car,
called out "Toss me the ball!"
So Mitch tossed him the ball as a reaction to anyone asking for the ball.
The pass was perfect, it put Richard right in front of the car. He looked at
us with the look of mischief and hopped onto the hood of the car, ass first.
Sitting on the car hood, before anyone could do anything, he did a little
ass-dance, as if his pevic area was having a seizure. Hopped off the car and
while running away from the car (which convinced us that we ought to run as
well), he called out "Hey guys! I just assed that car!"
Thats the tale of how one man, made a verb out of the word ass.