episode 329: steve loses his keys
Aug. 14th, 2003 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lauralhThe sitcom was in full effect last night. I left work without my Thai food, first of all, and was resigned to a sandwich when Steve called in the middle of my karaoke practice.
"I need a HUGE favor."
"Yeah?"
"I lost my keys in the river."
"..."
"I'll be at this address. I owe you big."
"You lost your keys in the river."
"Yeah. Oh, could you bring me some pants too?"
Fortunately Steve always takes his pants off in the computer room (for the humor value), so that was easy.
"And a shirt. And boxers. Shoes would be great."
"I'll bring you pants." But the Tivas were right by the pants, so the rest wasn't too bad.
Got in my car and drove to the eastside. For those of you not in the know, Seattle is separated by what I like to call "the suburbs" by Lake Washington. On the east side of the lake is Microsoft et al. Big tracts of lands with huge expensive houses
and school districts. You know, for kids. Also parts of it are a little swampy, and the only places I've ever seen mosquitos. In short, the only thing that could make my journey any more like hell are a couple of big dogs.*
I get to the big honking house that Steve is at with his coworkers, and peer around the corner for him. He doesn't see me, but the innumerable blond children (two of them) do. I'm utterly furious at this point, but I go around the other corner and see him. Give him his stuff. He offers to buy me the Buffy season three DVD set. I tell him that nothing he can say will make me feel better. And then the two huge labs start jumping on me. I reveal my fear, though, and they're shepherded to the house. People offer me beer but I'm so not wanting to relax. We go to look for sodas. Actually I'm aching for a clove but Steve's lighter is in the car. That gets funnier - all his stuff being in the car - when other people say it.
However. Amongst the soda's is Barq's root beer. Which I did not know one could buy in the Northwest. I rarely even saw it in North Carolina. And it's basically the best root beer ever. Not just because it has caffeine. "I'll stick to the stimulants tonight. I don't get addicted to them." Which is oddly true. Then again I don't consume enough of them on a regular basis. "I guess we can't smoke in front of the stupid kids."
I wanted to just leave, but they were grilling, so, as I told Steve, "I wouldn't have even come out here if I hadn't left my Thai food at work." Plus they were playing the Police greatest hits. I fucking hate Sting almost as much as I hate children. But I like burgers, and caeser salad, so all was not lost. Plus the Barq's is so fucking good that I start to calm down. One of the other coworkers starts discussing his tattoo, and I try to talk Steve into getting one. "Sure, I'll get the kanji for General Tso's, with the #6 in front of it." I tell him that needs to be his penalty for this mess, get a tattoo with me, but he refuses. Bah. "I lost my keys inner tubing and all I got was this lousy tattoo" would have gone on nicely, I think. SOmeone suggests "Laural Rules" but as he points out, attracting girls with tattoos doesn't work with something like that.
And then we have cookies and go. His car is still parked at the river, of course, so we go there. Directions from Travis work out nicely till Fish Hatchery Road splits. We go the first way and Steve says "This doesn't look familiar." So, I turn around, and take the initial fork. "Wait, this doesn't look right either." The actual fish hatchery. So we turn around, again, and go back to the first path. A few more miles and we were finally, FINALLY there. I dropped Steve off and hit the goddamn accelerator.
I sped like a maniac all the way home, except not as fast. Tricky to time these things with no cruise control. I-90 is three or more lanes all the way back to Seattle, so it's a dream, especially at dusk with no traffic.
*I was bit by a dog at age ten and consequently am not too fond of them. I'll show you the scar if you ask nice.
"I need a HUGE favor."
"Yeah?"
"I lost my keys in the river."
"..."
"I'll be at this address. I owe you big."
"You lost your keys in the river."
"Yeah. Oh, could you bring me some pants too?"
Fortunately Steve always takes his pants off in the computer room (for the humor value), so that was easy.
"And a shirt. And boxers. Shoes would be great."
"I'll bring you pants." But the Tivas were right by the pants, so the rest wasn't too bad.
Got in my car and drove to the eastside. For those of you not in the know, Seattle is separated by what I like to call "the suburbs" by Lake Washington. On the east side of the lake is Microsoft et al. Big tracts of lands with huge expensive houses
and school districts. You know, for kids. Also parts of it are a little swampy, and the only places I've ever seen mosquitos. In short, the only thing that could make my journey any more like hell are a couple of big dogs.*
I get to the big honking house that Steve is at with his coworkers, and peer around the corner for him. He doesn't see me, but the innumerable blond children (two of them) do. I'm utterly furious at this point, but I go around the other corner and see him. Give him his stuff. He offers to buy me the Buffy season three DVD set. I tell him that nothing he can say will make me feel better. And then the two huge labs start jumping on me. I reveal my fear, though, and they're shepherded to the house. People offer me beer but I'm so not wanting to relax. We go to look for sodas. Actually I'm aching for a clove but Steve's lighter is in the car. That gets funnier - all his stuff being in the car - when other people say it.
However. Amongst the soda's is Barq's root beer. Which I did not know one could buy in the Northwest. I rarely even saw it in North Carolina. And it's basically the best root beer ever. Not just because it has caffeine. "I'll stick to the stimulants tonight. I don't get addicted to them." Which is oddly true. Then again I don't consume enough of them on a regular basis. "I guess we can't smoke in front of the stupid kids."
I wanted to just leave, but they were grilling, so, as I told Steve, "I wouldn't have even come out here if I hadn't left my Thai food at work." Plus they were playing the Police greatest hits. I fucking hate Sting almost as much as I hate children. But I like burgers, and caeser salad, so all was not lost. Plus the Barq's is so fucking good that I start to calm down. One of the other coworkers starts discussing his tattoo, and I try to talk Steve into getting one. "Sure, I'll get the kanji for General Tso's, with the #6 in front of it." I tell him that needs to be his penalty for this mess, get a tattoo with me, but he refuses. Bah. "I lost my keys inner tubing and all I got was this lousy tattoo" would have gone on nicely, I think. SOmeone suggests "Laural Rules" but as he points out, attracting girls with tattoos doesn't work with something like that.
And then we have cookies and go. His car is still parked at the river, of course, so we go there. Directions from Travis work out nicely till Fish Hatchery Road splits. We go the first way and Steve says "This doesn't look familiar." So, I turn around, and take the initial fork. "Wait, this doesn't look right either." The actual fish hatchery. So we turn around, again, and go back to the first path. A few more miles and we were finally, FINALLY there. I dropped Steve off and hit the goddamn accelerator.
I sped like a maniac all the way home, except not as fast. Tricky to time these things with no cruise control. I-90 is three or more lanes all the way back to Seattle, so it's a dream, especially at dusk with no traffic.
*I was bit by a dog at age ten and consequently am not too fond of them. I'll show you the scar if you ask nice.
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no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:07 am (UTC)That is so hawt.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:11 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:19 am (UTC)I think I could totally orally pleasure anyone who would bring me a case.
no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:41 am (UTC)Oh man. Ooooooh man....
no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:44 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 07:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 11:49 am (UTC)oh gad
Date: 2003-08-14 12:03 pm (UTC)barqs is so awful. root beer shouldn't have caffeine in it. that's what makes it so awesome! barqs is clearly just root beer for the masses.
if you were a real root beer purist you would understand.
Re: oh gad
Date: 2003-08-14 12:05 pm (UTC)Re: oh gad
Date: 2003-08-14 12:09 pm (UTC)drinking root beer is all about being a snob.
thomas kemper root beer is at the top of my list. i feel so lucky to live in seattle where its readily available.
::shrug::
Date: 2003-08-14 12:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2003-08-14 02:49 pm (UTC)stupid dogs, i hate them
Date: 2003-08-14 03:05 pm (UTC)oh yeah?
Date: 2003-08-14 03:06 pm (UTC)Re: oh yeah?
Date: 2003-08-14 03:33 pm (UTC)DOGS
Date: 2003-08-14 04:13 pm (UTC)They just hate me. I nearly got kicked out of my girlfriend's house the last time I was there because everyone else in the house was trying to sleep, and one of her dogs was running around the house barking. This same dog went for my jugular not once, but twice, while my girlfriend was trying to calm it down.
I fucking hate dogs.