Rambling Rhodes

A Little Cheddar X-stacy

I'm about as reliable when it comes to participating in the Cheddar X as a pot-head who says he's get something done "tomorrow." But, I do come through about once a month or so. Let's begin, shall we?

1. What was the last thing you regret saying the moment it left your lips or keyboard?

I regret shit all the time. I'm a damned regret xerox machine, for crying out loud. One anecdote sticks out, though. . .

Back in college, my buddies and I made semi-frequent trips to the local strip club, called the Four Mile Club. It's a seedy dive of a strip club; the kind of place where you can actually smell the cooties. Anyway, we were up at "Sniff Row," which, if you're unfamiliar with strip club vernacular, is the row closest to the stage, where you can supposedly smell the. . . well. . . never mind.

So, we're up at sniff row, putting our dollars down, and generally unwinding after a long day of skipping classes, when my buddies, as was often the case, started giving me shit. We always give each other shit, usually going on down the line ganging up on one for awhile, and then moving on and giving shit to another. Well, it was my turn to get shit.

Now, the thing about my buddies and me is that we're very effective at giving shit and, after awhile of being ganged up on by veteran shit-givers, it starts to take its toll. One of my buddies, Chad, was chatting it up with the stripper on stage, and he sensed I was getting irritated about being the shit receiver, so he floated this little gem up:

"Hey, you know, his mom (meaning my mom, of course) used to be a stripper. Bet she could give you some pointers."

There are some topics that bother me, and one that has always bothered me is how my buddies like to tell me that "my mom is hot" or "they'd like to 'do' my mom." I can usually take such jokes in stride, but that day, with my buddy telling a naked woman on stage, in all seriousness, that my mother, who is, in fact, a high school English teacher, used to be a stripper. . . well. . . something went off in my head.

"My mom was never a stripper! She has more self-respect than that!"

Now, in a strip club, filled with strippers, that was probably the worst thing in the world that could have fallen out of my mouth. It was uttered in defense of my mother. It was a heat of the moment kind of thing. I could feel the heavy stares from all the half-naked and fully-naked women in the club, and I think they all wanted to kill me in various painful ways.

We left the strip club about three minutes later, which Chad laughing maniacally at me all the way out the door. He still reminds about that every chance he gets. That fucker.

2. When was the last time you wished ill upon someone? Why?

Just now, thinking of my buddy Chad.

3. What's wrong with you?

Short temper. Impatient. Obnoxious. And oh so much more.

4. Who would most benefit from having sense knocked into them?

Mike Tyson.

5. Who would you just most like to knock around?

Well, lately, it's been pretty much Dan Rather, but that probably wouldn't be a fair fight. He'd kick my ass.

6. What is the worst part of your day?

Pretty much any time I actually have to work.

UNRELATED: By the way, I've been assigned an article that will explore the evolving technology of Voice Over IP (VOIP). If you have any hot leads or good contacts for such an article, please let me know (yes, I'm looking at you, Johnny Huh?).

Posted by Ryan at September 17, 2004 10:54 AM