Living Life

My current job involves selling gym memberships to a gym that doesn't exist yet. That's the only thing i'll say on that topic.

Last Friday I was privy to an experience everyone should have at least one point in there lives. Going out with the Young family. Octoberfest was in full swing at the Crescent Moon which stymied the momentum from an entertaining evening at my former female permeated house of residence. Downtrodden but unwilling to give up the night, we about face and head to a relatively benign Barrets. The bar is nothing to the naked eye, but after the raising of several flagons of libations we have so far encountered: a salty waitress, a guy i played ball with who stepped in for the maligned aforementioned waitress, a brief encounter by another troop to see what the commotion was, and the arrival of three of societies finest manifested in the human bodies of the Young offspring. Now, my interpretation of events may be skewed. Anyone who responds to my inquiry with, "Yes Al, playing Bailamos at a bar is a fantastic idea," is automatically my friend for life. As you may have guessed, the eldest Young played the role of enabler and somehow tables were cleared whereupon a dance party ensued the likes of which the barren halls of Barret's had not seen before and neigh will see again. Such greatness had this isolated pocket of celebration that even when I reported to work a scant 4 hours after the last consumption of a beverage a doubt or remorse never entered my still quite intoxicated head the entire day.

In a totally unrelated matter I slept for about 12 hours the subsequent night. Long live random Omaha bars. Although in all fairness to Crescent Moon, I heard it was a pretty great time too.