What Team Are You On?

Before I get to today’s post, there’s a few things that I feel need to be addressed.

1.) It looks like Former Tiger’s Pitcher Ugueth Urbina will now be a catcher:

http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/news/story?id=2815590

2.) After much debate and soul searching, I decided that I really don’t want to write about my Vegas trip, mainly because it would take too long. I may write it at a later date, but for now I’m too busy. My apologies to everyone who was looking forward to reading said report, which by my estimation was about 1.5 of you.

Anyhow, here’s a funny story that happened to me at work last night.

So the Afro-American cook, Rick, is the only other person working with me on the night of this incident. We’d been pretty slow all night, and by slow I mean I didn’t get my first table ‘til 7:45 PM. We close at nine, so I figured that nothing interesting was going to happen. Boy was I wrong! (Sometimes I like to pretend that I’m writing first person narrative for a 21st century version of The Boxcar Children. Sorry about that.)

So right after 8 PM, after being dead all night, I get 5 tables in the span of 5 minutes. Believe it or not, trying to wait on 5+ tables when you’re doing almost everything – taking orders, bussing tables, making drinks, running out all the food, etc. – is not the most enjoyable of experiences. It can actually be really stressful. But this isn’t a post of me b*tching and moaning about how hard my job is, mainly because it’s pretty easy. No, this is a post about something much different.

Once the rush hit, my night consisted of running around trying to keep a bunch of tables happy, all while trying to act like I had my sh*t somewhat together. In the midst of all this, I noticed that two guys who were dinning together – both of whom resembled theatre majors – keep starring at me. Naturally* I assumed this was because they needed something. So I went over to ask them what was going on and if they needed anything. To my surprise, they both said no and that everything was fine. It was at that moment that I started to become a little bit uncomfortable. I then went on to check up on a few more tables. While I was doing this I kept noticing in my peripheral vision that the two “theatre” guys were looking me up and down. I then spun around to look at them and they both gave me flirty smiles. Needless to say, this made me very uncomfortable, as these guys were blatantly checking me out. And no, dear readers, I’m not over-exaggerating. I haven’t been eye-f*cked that hard since my boy Jake stopped drinking**.

I then rushed back to the kitchen, probably looking like I’d just seen a ghost. Rick noticed something was up and asked me what was going on. I told him the story, which immediately made him laugh. We then had the following conversation about my traumatic experience:

Rick: Oh man! (giggling like a school girl). I’m not sure I would have told anyone that.

Me: Yeah, well.

Rick: YYYYeeeeaaaaaaah! Sexy C!

Me: (trying desperately to save face) Hey, if at least one team is scouting and recruiting you, it can’t be all bad, right?

Rick: Yeah, but that’s the team you don’t want scouting you at all. You don’t want to be nowhere on their radar.

Me: Not saying I disagree with you, but look at it this way: If you’re getting recruited by North Carolina, and even if North Carolina’s the only school you’d ever, ever go to, you’re still getting noticed if some school comes out of nowhere with crazy recruitment offers. Like say Murray State showed up and offered me a car, my mom a house, and my dad a job if I go play there. Even though North Carolina’s the only school I’d ever go to, and I wouldn’t even consider Murray State’s offer, I’m still going to appreciate the attention.

Rick: No, those are the recruiting letters you throw away, soon as you get’em. You got to treat them like bills, just toss’em out. I mean, you know that you going to North Carolina, so it doesn’t matter who else is recruiting you. That’s why you just throw those letters out, immediately. At least that’s what I’d do. I’d just be like “Creighton? Why the f*ck are they recruiting me?”

Me: Good point, good point. By the way, did I mention that the only school I’d ever go to is North Carolina?

So there you have it, a funny story for everyone!

(Disclaimer: I’m really not a homophobe, although this story may lead you to believe the exact opposite. This situation just caught me off guard and I thought that our conversation needed to be shared with you. Honest.)

Until We Meet Again
* Or ignorantly
** Back in Jake’s alcoholic days, he had some gender-confusion issues when drunk. For Reals. P.S. We’re all proud of you for your sobriety Jake. Also For Reals.