What an emotional win for the Red Sox last night. Brian, the owner of the Village Idiot, and one of the most ardent Boston fans I know, was bartending, and got so excited at one point that we think he may have pulled a hamstring by jumping up and down. Although, if I have to hear Sweet Caroline one more time before the beginning of the Series on Wednesday, I will stab someone. I think I heard it at least twenty times last night, and that's barely an exaggeration.

Without further ado, here are some random snatches of conversation from the Idiot this weekend. (also, Bubba, now that you've pointed out that I say "Thank you for calling the Village Idiot" when I answer the phone, I cringe a bit every time I say it. Thanks for giving me a complex.)


Captain and I are sitting at the bar, minding our own business, drinking beer and watching football. Neither of us are working, so neither of us is wearing anything to suggest that we work here. This guy just walked up and sat right next to Captain, at a mostly empty bar.
Random Drunk Hippie: Can I speak freely to you?
JT: Sure...why not.
Random Drunk Hippie: I mean it...can I be open and honest with you and you not take offense?
JT: Maybe, but usually when people start a conversation that way I wind up pissed off. I'm not promising anything.
Random Drunk Hippie: You've got a nice beard, man. The moustache part is really well developed.
JT: Well...thank you, I suppose. (I'm trying to make it obvious that I want to sit quietly and watch football without being too rude)
Random Drunk Hippie: I mean it, but let me say one more thing...this part (gestures wildly with his hands around the neck and cheeks) this part right here...don't shave that, man. Let it grow. And don't trim your beard back, man. Let it get big and full, man. Don't be ashamed of it. You've got a great beard.
JT: I'll take that into consideration.
Random Drunk Hippie: I mean it. I bet you keep it short and neat like that for chicks. Who cares what chicks think?
Captain: Most heterosexual males. Can we just watch football here?
JT: That would be fantastic. Also, I keep my beard like this because I think it looks better, and I need to have a professional appearance for my job. Would you like for me to share my feelings on your beard, or can we watch football?
Random Drunk Hippie: Man, you need to respect me, man.
Captain: Why? What have you done since you sat down and interrupted us to earn our respect?
Random Drunk Hippie: Man...
At this point, he just sulked, angrily shooting us looks and sighing until some poor sap was unfortunate to sit down on the other side of him.


We had a little mishap with some bread getting burnt in the oven last night.
Amy, a waitress: Ugh...what the hell are you guys burning in there?
JT: The body of the last waitress who asked too many damn questions.


Last night, we ran out of a lot of toppings. Saturday was the second busiest day of the year. By the time I closed the kitchen, we only had enough dough left to make seven more pizzas, and were out of flour, so we couldn't have made more dough if we had wanted to. Brian told me to go ahead and shut it down early, since we weren't making much food anyway. People were mostly drinking and watching the Red Sox game.

JT: Thank you for calling the Village Idiot.
Random Drunk Girl: I'd like to place an order for delivery.
JT: Sorry, the kitchen closed down early tonight.
Random Drunk Girl: Oh...well, I saw online that you can order two large cheese pizzas for $14.99?
JT: Yes, but that special pricing is only available if you order online.
Random Drunk Girl: So I can't place an order on the phone and get that price?
JT: You nailed it.
Random Drunk Girl: Oh. Well, what is the regular price?
JT: They're regularly $10.45 plus tax.
Random Drunk Girl: Oh. Well, then let me just order a large pepperoni with extra cheese.
JT: The kitchen is closed for the night, sorry.
Random Drunk Girl: I'll come pick it up, you don't have to deliver!
(Yes, this is just what we need. Someone who is drunk enough to not grasp the meaning of "The kitchen is closed" to be on the roads.)
JT: It doesn't matter. The kitchen is closed entirely. I'm not making anymore food, regardless of if the order is for delivery, pick up, dine in, or for the Pope. No more food tonight.
Random Drunk Girl: Asshole.
JT: Have a great evening!


Also, at some point, Captain earned himself another nickname. He is now known as "The Main Event." None of us can quite remember why.

Hope everyone had a great weekend, back to the grind of the regular workweek.

JT out.