An Ode To The Day Load
There aren’t many things in my life that I enjoy more than a cold beer on a warm, sunny day. One of those things is double-digit cold beers on a warm, sunny day. I find myself thinking about it more and more as beautiful spring days continue to multiply. I also find myself thinking about it more and more as I stare at the three lonely, gray walls that surround my existence at work.
Around 2 pm, it’s time for my afternoon dump, a fifteen-minute detour from my daily duties. As I walk along the third floor windows that line the entire building, I feel the sunlight radiating through. I turn and look out the window, reaching up to touch the glass as I sigh.
Suddenly, I wake up in a daze- I am in my bed at the shore rocking my 'Superman' undies. I look at my phone, it’s Saturday morning -10 am. I start scanning the bedroom. Of course there’s no girl next to me, but that doesn’t matter. Last night was a superb time – shots of straight whiskey, some elbows, and surely some great laughs. I don’t know how I got home, but I did, and that’s all that matters. I wander into the living room to find people everywhere. The place is a mess and I cant bring myself to clean just yet, so I head out to grab lunch. As I’m finishing up my delicious hoagie from Wawa (oh yeah, it’s Hoagiefest), I get a text from a buddy saying, “Hey man just grabbed a case of beer lets get drunk.” There’s no need to respond because he knows I’m already on my way.
Around 2 pm, it’s time for my afternoon dump, a fifteen-minute detour from my daily duties. As I walk along the third floor windows that line the entire building, I feel the sunlight radiating through. I turn and look out the window, reaching up to touch the glass as I sigh.
Suddenly, I wake up in a daze- I am in my bed at the shore rocking my 'Superman' undies. I look at my phone, it’s Saturday morning -10 am. I start scanning the bedroom. Of course there’s no girl next to me, but that doesn’t matter. Last night was a superb time – shots of straight whiskey, some elbows, and surely some great laughs. I don’t know how I got home, but I did, and that’s all that matters. I wander into the living room to find people everywhere. The place is a mess and I cant bring myself to clean just yet, so I head out to grab lunch. As I’m finishing up my delicious hoagie from Wawa (oh yeah, it’s Hoagiefest), I get a text from a buddy saying, “Hey man just grabbed a case of beer lets get drunk.” There’s no need to respond because he knows I’m already on my way.
There’s nothing like the sound of a cap crisply being popped off the mouth of a bottle and the clang of it bouncing on the ground – especially when it's barely high noon. The classic rock is blaring from the speakers. One by one, my friends start to join in the beer drinking, each recapping his own night and recounting who had fallen into the bushes outside of the Dead Dog Saloon, who had decided it would be a good idea use the bar as urinal, and who had bedded a girl but simply couldn’t produce an erection. The cold beer is hitting the spot as a hot sun pours down on your pale body, which you’ll certainly feel later tonight but be way too drunk to care. And the laughs just keep on coming.
“Hey man do you remember last night when - are you alright?”
“Huh?”
“Are you alright?”
I come to and turn to see my boss staring at me like I have a nut sack hanging from my chin. I begin stammering and mumbling and blurt out a quick, “Yeah, I’m… yeah. Nice day out there.” He nods and wanders away and I continue on my way to fifteen minutes of thinking time on the can.
I walk into the bathroom praying that some 50 year old executive isn’t unloading in my personal stall which would relegate me to the handicap stall, a toilet that is too high to plant my feet firmly on the ground, which does not allow me to get my legs behind the shit (Shitting101: It’s all in the legs). I digress. Thankfully, the bathroom is empty. I lock the door and take a seat on my throne. Not ten seconds into my shit sesh, I gaze off into the stainless steel walls around me…
Everybody is starting to feel good at this point. Many more friends have joined the gathering and there is some heavy drinking going on. The jerseys and cut-offs abound. We grab the coffee table from the neighbors, strap a piece of tape down the middle and grab some dice. It’s Beer Guy time. I look around for a partner that isn’t too drunk and might still have quick hands and some focus. Game on. Not long after the game starts, everybody starts to lose interest and people start getting antsy. I hear a couple of loud bangs, and see two people scrambling to get their mouths on their beer bottles before the beer comes pouring out of the top. People start talking about playing musical chairs, except this is no ordinary musical chairs because this musical chairs get violent. We’ve reached the point of recklessness.
After an intense game of musical chairs, which included a couple of bloodied limbs and three broken chairs, everyone decides we need to move. It’s time to hit happy hour. People begin to separate to their preferred happy hour locations, but everyone knows they can’t go wrong, you’ve already had a great day and it’s only going to get better, just slightly more expensive. I immediately grab two beers and look for my friends.
Countless bottles of beer, couple of shots, several cut rugs, and an unknown period of time later, I exit the bar to find that the sun is still out. I stop off and grab some food, a necessary part of enabling myself to have a nightcap to this wonderful day load.
It is now dark as I wander back to the house and survey the wreckage. Two kids are already in bed and out cold, probably hoping they’ll be able to wake up in time to go out that night. Doubtful. I open the fridge, snag a cold beer, turn on some music and sit on the couch and reflect on the day as more and more people wander back…
All of a sudden, I’m back on the can squeezing out stubborn bastard. I look at my watch and realize I’ve been on the can for twenty minutes and quickly clean up and head back to my cubicle. As I sit down, I take a quick look at the calendar and realize that in only a short time, my desk chair will become a beach chair, my days will become loads, and my dreams will become reality.
-Uncle Boner
“Hey man do you remember last night when - are you alright?”
“Huh?”
“Are you alright?”
I come to and turn to see my boss staring at me like I have a nut sack hanging from my chin. I begin stammering and mumbling and blurt out a quick, “Yeah, I’m… yeah. Nice day out there.” He nods and wanders away and I continue on my way to fifteen minutes of thinking time on the can.
I walk into the bathroom praying that some 50 year old executive isn’t unloading in my personal stall which would relegate me to the handicap stall, a toilet that is too high to plant my feet firmly on the ground, which does not allow me to get my legs behind the shit (Shitting101: It’s all in the legs). I digress. Thankfully, the bathroom is empty. I lock the door and take a seat on my throne. Not ten seconds into my shit sesh, I gaze off into the stainless steel walls around me…
Everybody is starting to feel good at this point. Many more friends have joined the gathering and there is some heavy drinking going on. The jerseys and cut-offs abound. We grab the coffee table from the neighbors, strap a piece of tape down the middle and grab some dice. It’s Beer Guy time. I look around for a partner that isn’t too drunk and might still have quick hands and some focus. Game on. Not long after the game starts, everybody starts to lose interest and people start getting antsy. I hear a couple of loud bangs, and see two people scrambling to get their mouths on their beer bottles before the beer comes pouring out of the top. People start talking about playing musical chairs, except this is no ordinary musical chairs because this musical chairs get violent. We’ve reached the point of recklessness.
After an intense game of musical chairs, which included a couple of bloodied limbs and three broken chairs, everyone decides we need to move. It’s time to hit happy hour. People begin to separate to their preferred happy hour locations, but everyone knows they can’t go wrong, you’ve already had a great day and it’s only going to get better, just slightly more expensive. I immediately grab two beers and look for my friends.
Countless bottles of beer, couple of shots, several cut rugs, and an unknown period of time later, I exit the bar to find that the sun is still out. I stop off and grab some food, a necessary part of enabling myself to have a nightcap to this wonderful day load.
It is now dark as I wander back to the house and survey the wreckage. Two kids are already in bed and out cold, probably hoping they’ll be able to wake up in time to go out that night. Doubtful. I open the fridge, snag a cold beer, turn on some music and sit on the couch and reflect on the day as more and more people wander back…
All of a sudden, I’m back on the can squeezing out stubborn bastard. I look at my watch and realize I’ve been on the can for twenty minutes and quickly clean up and head back to my cubicle. As I sit down, I take a quick look at the calendar and realize that in only a short time, my desk chair will become a beach chair, my days will become loads, and my dreams will become reality.
-Uncle Boner