Outta Here!
The LeBron
It was a typical Holiday Saturday the day before (Twisted’s on the beach, dead dog, OD, shower, 302’s, t-rex dance party with hotmouths at bangers (Shenanigans). I woke up in the morning on the hardwood floor surrounded by a bunch of dudes with broken furniture and empty bottles scattered throughout the place. So much for the tail I was creeping on the night before. All the freeloaders and people with jobs get out as early as possible to get on the road because their Demons are so God Damn high they feel like the Son of Lucifer is killing them from within. For those unfamiliar with the term "Demons" it is a way of describing your anxiety when it is through the roof. Well a few of my friends think it will be a smart idea to call out of work for Monday and put on the typical sea isle Sunday load. We start the day off with some delicious pulled pork sandwiches from Bar-B-Q Willie's, fully knowing this would be the only meal of the day. After that we picked up a case of BL Smoothies and Twisteds and proceeded to take them back to our house where we sucked them down like we were the weed-whacking bum from Manayunk drinking grape soda.
So its 4pm were feeling a little loose and proceed to head to the dead dog for some fresh 1.50 Coors lights from Jamie before taking in the Sunday jam. For those of you that don’t know Jamie he is praised throughout Delco as the greatest bartender of all time. When you ask for a glass of water from this guy he will turn around and give you a shot of banker’s club gin with a straw in it for insulting him. All is going well were laughing feeling great that the booze is back in us and the hangover is gone. The famous dead dog ipod is playing Bruce while the patrons bang on the bar. Life is good. We decide to head over to the OD for some lemonade and get down to partying. The place is mobbed, everyone’s sweating and stinks like a wet dog but nobody cares because their all drunk as a skunk, you know the words to every song and people are getting down. We decide to go out back to puff some heaters where all of Delco is congregated as they are on every weekend afternoon.
Click "Read More" Below
Anyway, the 4 of us put the 2 bottles down and head out to the Springfield to hear the smooth sounds of Mike Lecompt and have a legendary dance party. The place is pretty empty but the dance floor was screaming our name. We pull out all the classics: the Double Dutch, the Rick Flair strut, the dry hump, and last but not least... "spin the bottle". Now if you ever want to get a bouncer pissed off this is a customary one to pull out. Just like its predecessor before it, the Double Dutch, this dance is believed to be created at Penn State but was perfected in Sea Isle. As soon as they see a bunch of drunken retards from Delco dancing around a spinning piece of glass they lose their shit. So the bottle points at me and I proceed to pull out the baby powder and do the Lebron James pregame routine of throwing it in the air. This was when Lebron was the shit and he recently hit that winning shot in game 1 of the conference finals against the Magic. I’ll leave my disgust for that asshole for another time.
The bouncer sees this and is furious. He grabs the bottle of baby powder, throws it out, and grips me up. However I’m lucky enough to have a few old friends who are from Delco working as bartenders and bouncers and they convince them not to kick my drunk ass out just yet. I’m at a loss for words. I did that hoping for a legendary kick out but it doesn’t happen, so what do I do? Well I grab my friend and we go trash picking for the baby powder and go into the bathroom. As were in there loading our hands up with this baby powder, we notice the bouncer walking our way in a furry. We run out and do a double Lebron powder throw, with mine going into the bouncers face. We both get lifted in the air as if were getting power bombed by The Diesel Kevin Nash at the 1999 Royle Rumble. Were outside laughing our asses off getting yelled at by bouncers and normal patrons, but fuck it; we had one hell of a night.
We go to Wawa and pick up some late night munchies. I wake up the next morning on my deck using my Doritos bag as a pillow. A successful night in deed. However, not thinking about the future consequence the following Friday we all go out to the Springfield for a normal night and when we get to the door the bouncer tells us to get the fuck out of here. We bitch and moan and complain and realize this isn’t going to happen. This continued for 2 more months and my summer of 2009 at the Springfield was a wash. You know what I say to that? Fuck them and their $6 Beers
-Anonymous