No Bueno Fiesta

I finally took the time and searched through my email and found my log on and password. I will forget it again in a week or two, but I am finally going to make a post on my own.

Last week for work I had to make a last minute work trip to Mexico City. Yes the same Mexico City that is the epicenter of the swin flu pandemic. I will eventually get to that but I wrote an email that I found kinda funny about my experience after only my first two days of the trip and I thought I would take this rare opportunity of knowing my password to contribute and expand on the email.

1. There is no English ESPN here. They don't call it ESPN Deportes either it is just ESPN

2. I do not know what 120-130 KMH translates to MPH but I know 120-130 KMH down the side of a winding mountain road translates into Frank thinking he is going to crap his pants in fear they are going to fly off the side of the mountain.

3. Animals graze everywhere. Side of the interstate, in the hotel grass next to the parking lot, and on the side of a mountain that I have no idea how they got there.

4. Dogs are everywhere. None have owners but look fairly healthy. They also sell puppies at the toll booths. Yesterday a stray followed me out of the gas station and while my driver was pumping gas it jumped in the car and spilled my coffee all over me. Really weird experience, especially when I was uncomfortable when the driver kick said dog.

5. Most who have been to Mexico know this but they try to sell you anything. Food, toys, as previously mentioned dogs, huge wooden sculptures of Jesus’s mother or just Jesus himself, furniture, and if you had enough money probably their children.

5. I know no Spanish whats so ever. My translator knows very little English. I know, then why is he my translator? I really don't know, but I hope they got a discount. This makes for a difficult working situation.

6. To expand on number 5 Very frustrating to say the least. Here is a few pointers to know if this ever happens to you. Speaking like a cave man does not help. For example saying the phrase "Could you please explain to me what information you want displayed on your computer screen" like this "you want I make you picture on screen look how" does not help at all. On the same note speaking like an American cave man trying to add Spanish accents onto words does not help either, and I think they actually might have been offended. Talking with your hands to point to things might make you look.....I tried to come up with a witty analogy about being stupid, but it makes you look stupid, and I am not really that witty so it wouldn't have worked anyway. It seems to be the most effective method though.

7. Anyone in this group will tell you when someone thinks something I did was funny I tend to run it into the ground. For example I am 33 years old and still do the worm when we happen to be at a dance club......come to think about anywhere that has music and I am drinking. Well Mexicans don't find things funny over and over again either. Me saying every time I was frustrated with them "Necesito una cerveza" was funny the first.... ummm 10 times. After 15 they just stopped laughing. At number 25 they walked away saying something in Spanish that didn't sound nice......I still pushed it to 30.

8. On the way back my driver was taking the normal route back to Mexico City. Without warning he pulls off the interstate and into a small town. 25 minutes of driving deep into the Mexican country side I have resided that I am pretty sure I am going to be on CNN in a couple of days with a story line "American Kidnapped in Mexico and Infuriates Captures Because No One Is Willing To Pay Money to Get Him Back". After another 5 to 10 minutes (felt like hours) we pull up to a shack (95% of the houses are shacks) . We pick up his brother who rides all the way back to Mexico City with us. Strange would not state properly the feeling of the rest of the drive back.

9. Mexicans can build anything out of cinder blocks. Well out of any kind of blocks at all. 500 ft crosses, billboard signs, huge buildings. That being said 90% of the houses are not complete. All are either missing a wall or a roof. Just thought this was weird.

10. So two days after getting there the news starts pouring in about the Pandemic of the Swin Flu. I am now inundated with email, texts, and phone calls. I was not in Mexico City at the time and no one seemed worried so I wasn't either. I get dropped off at my hotel in Mexico City Sunday night and it is everywhere. Everyone has on surgical masks and police are questioning anyone that didn't look like they should be in the hotel. The guy I was working with apparently thought copious amounts of Don Julio would kill any of that d@mn Swin Flu because I think we drank all that the hotel bar had in stock. The 5 AM wakeup to catch my flight hurt. Then after already checking out of the hotel I get a call from Delta. Your flight has been cancelled. Nothing about why, just your flight is cancelled. So of coarse the first thing I think is "great they are not letting anyone out of this god forsaking place". Get to the airport and it was just maintenance problems. So the fact that I still get to go home makes the fact that I now am stuck at the airport for 7 hours seem a lot less sucktastic. My boredom did have a positive effect for another board poster. He likes tequila very much and the chica caliente (hot chic) salesgirl talked me into what she said was a special bottle of tequila. So I boaght it for GF. I ask the tequila connoisseur board member later and he said "yeah you can pick that up at any liquor store in town". D@mn hot salesgirl! I am a sucker for hot woman and have realized that the senioritas are an even bigger weakness of mine.

11. 4 hours later and about 6 beers into the day, the whole airport bar starts to shake pretty hard. The Chili Pepper signs hanging over the bar are swinging and a couple of glasses fall. Btw off topic but I have realized there is a Chilis Too everywhere. Come to find out Mexico has just had a 5.6 earthquake. The old man bartender and I are talking and he says in his broken English. "That no earthquake, you have too many cerveza". Pretty much the only thing I understood him say all day and we shared a really good laugh. While that was funny all I can think is "holy crap I need to get out of this place, someone here has done something to infuriate what ever god they believe in and his/her wrath is going to take out the innocent along with the rest". Selfishly I was the only innocent I cared about.

12. Finally I am airborne and on the way home. First flight goes fine. In Atlanta I stop for dinner, at a Chillis Too, and see a gigantic human being and wonder how in the hell is he flying on an airplane..... He must have to buy two seats. I found out about two hours later that he did not b/c he is sitting right next to me. I of coarse am in the center seat. He sits down and has to literally force himself into the seat. I can hear the armrests screaming with the sounds of stress fractures and think any minute their going to give. His person is hanging all over me and what I thought would be the easiest and shortest part of my flight turned into the most excruciating flight ever. His roll that is touching me is really damp and just the thought of that makes me want to puke. The girl next to me is giggling. She is lucky I couldn't move because I might have slapped her. So you would think I would be the one who freaks out on the flight. Nope. He asks me what brought me to Atlanta. I told him I was flying home from work in Mexico. Should have never said that. He starts flipping out. "Oh my god I can't believe this, this is a sign of the end of the world and now you are sitting next to me. I have the worst f*cking luck in the world". I am thinking "you have the worst luck. Have you ever thought of what everyone that has to sit next to you goes through". He gets up a complains to the flight attendant. She lets him stand in the back of the plane till we land and gives him a surgical mask. I honestly didn't blame him too much. Then we land. He tries to run as fast as he can to the front of the plane hitting people left and right with his massive gut and ass, that I notice to my dismay was hanging out the back of his pants. He didn't make it too far, so I can now hear him on his phone saying that he was affraid he was going to die and that if he does his family will sue Delta Airlines. This is where it would have been awesome if I yelled "you are going to die soon anyway from being such a fat ass". I didn't though.

There is my story. No point to it just wanted to share.

"Some things you don't need until they leave you, they're the things that you miss"

I had a fantastic weekend in a very unlikely place...NY city (this is where the host ruptures a blood vessel in his brain because he hates it when I "big time" him). I started the weekend in a rather terrible way. I was supposed to meet up with my Aunt and Uncle in Washington D.C. I left early (2:30) from work in order to beat the traffic. At 5:00 I was 23 miles from where I started...still in bumper to bumper traffic and not in a very good mood (especially when you take into account the $15 in tolls this trip had already cost me). So, knowing when I've been beaten I gave up, turned around and slugged my way an additional 2 hrs back into the city. Total drive time, 5 hrs. Total mileage, about 45. Distance from where I started at 2:30 to where I ended at 7... 16 miles.

Now this debacle would usually be enough to ruin my weekend and bring out bitter Ant'ny...but I just laughed it off, went to a diner with my lady friend and watched the BoSox beat the Yankees in extra innings with cold beer and good company. On Saturday I went for a run through Central Park (9 miles) and then went had a picnic on the Great Meadow complete with beer, wine, and sunshine. Sunday was more of the same and commenced with dinner on a balcony overlooking the rat race. Now don't get me wrong...NY has a long list of things that I do not like. It's crowded, expensive, and it snowed twice in April. But, at least it gave me a little pleasure on what could have been a terrible weekend.

Tales from the Gym

I woke up this morning at 5:30 am to go the the gym...I do this sometimes, I do not know why. It always amuses me to see what signs are posted there. For instance, the yellow "Caution: Wet Floor" cone is there to help me figure out that tile floor in the shower area may cause a danger...I need that kind of help as I am very slow. I also take great amusement at reading the signs over hot tubs. I've seen some real fun rules like "throwing rocks, furniture, or missiles of any kind is strictly prohibited"...no shit! If you have open wounds, diarrea, or a child that is not bathroom trained please do not use hot tub...seriously, that needs to be written?

Sadly, I see no signs of any kind in place that could truly protect me. Like the "Caution: weird guy with fish-net boxer briefs stretching in main walkway" sign (could have used that sign this morning). Another helpful sign would be posted over the couch and read "Rubbing moisterizer or liquid of any kind on your frank and beans while watching ESPN is strictly prohibited".

I just can not get over the fact that guys think they are at home. I hear loud belches, lots of "hocking" up "loogies" and conversations that would make Andrew Dice Clay blush. I would be a lot happier in general if more folks realized the difference between publicly acceptable and privately acceptable...that's all I'm saying.

I know for a fact that the Five Guys have stories to add to this.

Married Math

In what will be a first on the Forum, we are going to share a little math equation with you. Frank (who still can't log in on his own) came up with something worth sharing.

Now I am not going to say every married dude has the same issues (but they do). I am not even going to say all married dudes will be able to sympathize (they can). What I will say, is that all of the stuff wives pull has to be true despite them saying it isn't. Proof: Put 100 dudes in a room, have one of them start venting on what it's like to have a wife and all other 99 will nod their heads. If somehow, you think you would be the lone standout (which if you do the math, is not offered as a possibility in my scenario), you are a liar...mostly to yourself. But the Five Guys know you are lying to your wife merely to make your life tolerable. Noble? Not in the slightest. Necessary? Afraid so.

I didn't make the rules. I also didn't follow them. And that's why I currently have no TV.

Anyway, on to the equation:

100% of the time I (Frank) get drunk = 100% wife will get mad

Drawn out in long form it is:

I (Frank) like to have fun divided by fact that wife is crazy, raving biatch multiplied by being a crazy woman that wants me (Frank) to be miserable = Frank wants to jump off a bridge

So, there you have it. I am not saying Frank is a genius or that the next Good Will Hunting will be about a character as genius as he is. But, Frank hits it pretty squarely on the head here and, like I said, the numbers don't lie. Do the math.

“But if you left it up to me everyday would be A holiday from real. We'd waste our weeks beneath the sun…”

I hate to sound too cliché, but it seems that lately all I do is work. And not work because of the reward, but work because of the risk. Despite putting in longer hours than ever before, I have less to show for it. The truth is, if things don’t turn around there is a very real possibility that in the coming months my position and perhaps my whole division will be eliminated. Thus I work. And when I am not working, I think about work. I stress about it. I obsess over it. This is so far from the kind of person that I have always been that it disgusts me. It is not how I have ever lived nor how I want to live.

So it is with this in mind that I proudly announce GF’s First Annual HOLIDAY FROM REAL (thank you Andrew McMahon). To be celebrated on May 15th, the HOLIDAY FROM REAL (HFR), will be a day totally devoid of worry, stress, or responsibility of any kind. I will not only ignore work and work related topics, I will flat out shun them. What will I do on HFR? Who knows. Maybe a keggar by the pool. Maybe the Beach. Maybe a trip to the casino before the White Man takes blackjack from the Seminoles….Maybe all of the above! All I know is that HFR will epitomize awesome and it will become an annual event (future dates to be determined). I invite any and all to join me on the 15th. It is not about blowing off work, it is about rejuvenation of the human spirit. Nothing short of survival is at stake.

Is Driving Really That Hard?

One of things I have been burning on lately is the shit that seems to happen on the road all the time these days. There are also a lot of things people do with their vehicles I just don't get. For the most part, I'm a pretty sedate guy...but some things just get you boiling. In no particular order some things that need to be pointed out:

- If you are on the Interstate and driving the exact same speed as the car next to you, get the hell behind of, or in front of, that car and quit blocking the whole road for Chrissakes. Actually, this goes for any multi-lane road now that I think about it.

- If you have a green light and the line of traffic is moving, do not even consider stopping to let someone turn out of a parking lot. That is the responsibility of the people coming up behind you who will be stopping when the light turns red. This kills me every time.

- Speaking of, don't sit at a stop sign and wave me through before you when you are supposed to go next. Just follow the established procedure of going when it is your turn in order of when you stopped. If everyone would do this there wouldn't be a reason to wave anyone through. You aren't being magnanimous, you are being a jackass.

- If you can't park it, don't f-ing drive it. Got that soccer mom who backs up and pulls in 33 times in a parking lot?

- If you have to wait more than 7.2 seconds for someone to vacate a parking spot, don't sit there and wait. Seriously, chances are you are the type of person (read: fatass) that needs the extra walk anyway. I was in a local establishment the other day and I parked, ran in got my stuff, paid and came out in time to pass the people waiting for a spot finally on their way in. Wanted to say something...didn't. So now I am... I hate you.

- I don't care what sport your kid plays, what his number is or what the name of the team is. Your vehicle is not a marketing tool for Junior's inconsequential accomplishments. If I was more of a jerk, I would recommend you get a life of your own. But I am not, so just stop doing it.

- Speaking of, if you have one of those stickers on the back of your car that is like a row of paper dolls representing your family, you are a loser. End of discussion. If yours happens to be the one with Mickey Mouse ears on each person including the little cat and dog, you are a hopeless loser. Again, I would say get a life of your own but that ship has clearly sailed.

- The election is over, remove the stickers.

- It rains 180 days a year in Florida, how in the hell can people still not drive in it?

- Those rims looked a lot cooler on the wall than they do on your car. Consequently, your car was much cooler before you got in it.

- Hitch nuts are almost the dumbest thing ever. The only thing worse is the owner of the vehicle.

Well, I think that about covers it. I welcome any additions.

Judge Not Lest Ye Be Judged

***Note from the Host: This is not mine. One of the Five Guys whose stage name is listed as Frank in the author section wrote it and it's funny. Additionally, although he is funny he cannot for the life of him remember any of the dozen or so logins I have given him for this site. So for that what does he get? Me being his bitch and posting for him. So loyal readers of this blog (ie: the other Four Guys) enjoy.***

So this morning I am driving my oldest daughter to school. I stop for gas and go inside to get me a Diet Dew. While in there a guy is reaching in the cooler two down from me and grabs two of the big beers. (I want to say 40s but I am pretty sure they don't sell 40s any more). My first thought is one of either empathy or sympathy, I am not quite sure but, I think to myself "man it must suck to have a problem where you are drinking at 7:30 in the morning." As I leave the store he was outside taking the first one down like he had been in the desert for 4 days and the big boy Natural Light was a bottle of water. Again I am amazed that someone could drink like that this early in the morning. Just then I have a thought of I am 100% positive I have seen GF and I pounding beers at 7:30 in the morning before and I am pretty sure we all have. Has someone been standing next to us and had the same thoughts of amazement and disgust for us? Then the fact that me and Joshawn (that was his name the attendant knows him and said it, I did not just make that up), my beer pounding friend, probably have something else in common. When all is said and done I don't think either one of us cares what the people around us think, and we are both just thinking about how fantastic this beer tastes.

"I fell in love with the girl at The Rock show"

**Couple of notes here. This is an old piece. The events described took place well before I met Mrs. GF. Also, despite the title of this post, we most certainly DID NOT fall in love. It is just a clever song lyric that fit this post pretty well. Overall, I was young and stupid and immature and whatever other appropriate disclosures need to be disclosed before we go any further. Ok, on with the story**

On a steamy summer day not unlike every other day this time of year in Florida the Warped Tour rolled through Vinoy Park. Given that the lineup was by far the strongest the Tour had offered in years and my overwhelming dislike for work on Fridays, attendance was imperative. I pulled into down town St. Pete about 1:00 p.m. and after an arduous search for a parking spot, took a short walk over to my friend Gina’s house where we met up with Tom and Ken, who would be rounding out our foursome for the day. It should be noted that I was wearing a plain white Hane’s t-shirt, khaki shorts, 12 year old Chuck Taylor’s (white), and very preppy, un-punk sun glasses. I bring this up because it will be important later. We walked down to Vinoy and arrived just in time to catch the last song of the Drop Kick Murphy’s set. This was a disappointment in that they are always a highlight not to be missed. The first full show we saw was the Street Dogs out of Boston. Fantastic! Full of energy and encouraging the kids in the crowd to create their destiny and be accountable for their own actions. Intense and angry without being depressing and apathetic. Very refreshing for this type of concert. After that set ended (all sets on the Warped Tour are 30 minutes regardless of how big the act is) we walked around for a while, got some beers, and headed back up to the main stage. Over the next couple of increasingly hot hours a few more bands played including The Transplants, Fall Out Boy, Hawthorn Heights, and MxPx. All were pretty good, but none stood out as show stoppers. It should be noted that Fall Out Boy is not as strong live as they are on the radio while Hawthorn Heights’ CD doesn’t do their stage show justice. After MxPx, and more beers, we decided to walk back over to one of the small stages and check out the Riverboat Gamblers. The lead singer of Street Dogs had urged us to do so and given that it looked as if he would take it personally if we didn’t, we obviously felt obliged. Great, great show. Perhaps the most charismatic front man I have ever seen live not named Springsteen. Looking like the love child of Iggy Pop and the Black Crow’s Chris Robinson, he worked the crowd with an array of slithering, shimying, microphone swinging, head banging, and eventually dancing off stage and out into the crowd to sing directly to members of the audience. Good tunes, high energy, and exceptional execution. Well done Riverboat Gamblers, well done. Early in the set a young lady walked up behind me, pinched my butt and said “nice game”. Not having any idea what she may be referring to, I asked her. Again she said “Nice game, you’re the only one here not trying too hard”. Then she walked away. I appreciated that very much. After the show we had a few minutes to spare to get a beer and make our way back to the main stage for the most anticipated band of the day, My Chemical Romance. As we were walking Tom saw a guy he knew from high school and a couple of people with him. One of these people was Rachel, a feisty blonde with very pretty blue eyes. And that my friends was GAME OVER. All of us hung out together for My Chemical Romance, which more than lived up to the hype. The only regret with their set was that, just like everyone else, they only had a half hour to play. In a moment of joking Rachel told me that I would propose to her by the end of the set, so as they wrapped up “Helena”, I got down on one knee and made a fairly ridiculous yet thoroughly amusing proposal. As I did this, quite a little crowd gathered around, most of whom, despite my obvious joking, thought it was serious. Thus the rest of the afternoon we got quite a few congratulations and one offer to buy our next beers. I really should get fake engaged more often. I was supposed to leave after MCR due to obligations the following day. I did not. The last three bands were The Starting Line, Story of the Year, and The Offspring. I heard all these bands in a passing sense from down by the water where I was taking in some good conversation and continuing my long standing tradition of getting drunk and making out with girls. Overall, it was a fantastic day.

“Why The Drama, We Don't Have To Drag Out This Situation. It wasn't you, it wasn't me, sometimes the chemistry don't ignite"

It has been way too long since we had a posting here at the Five Guys, and to be fair there is only one of us who contributes any more anyway. So to try and prop this thing back up I am doing two posts today. The first is a story from this weekend and the second is a piece I wrote four years ago that gives some back story on a character I am about to mention.
Last Saturday The Host, Pauly, and I decided to take in the Sport of Kings. We spent the afternoon at our local track making $2 bets and drinking a staggering amount of 8 oz. dollar beers. We noticed that there was an engagement party taking place out on the veranda of the Clubhouse. The bridal party strolled by quite a few times to get drinks and place bets. At one point when the bride-to-be walked particularly close to the three of us I got a good look at her, nearly choked on my beer, and blurted out “I have made out with her”! Sure enough, this gal was one of the last people that I dated before meeting the future Mrs. GF. We met at a rock concert one afternoon and went out a time or two after that. While it was not scandalous or acrimonious, it was some what awkward to run into her in the context of her engagement party. I didn’t talk to her though I did run into her fiancée at the bar. Things I did say to him included, “I won 80 cents on that last race, how’d you do”? Things I did not say to him included, “your wife-to-be is a good kisser and it looks like she got a new set of Diacos since the last time I saw her, so Congrats”. Cause I like to keep it classy.