Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Baby speaks out

Baby's tired. It's 3:30 a.m. He just finished his tenth pint and the last Marlboro light. His eyes are glassy. One foot's in the gutter and the other is stumbling toward the men's room. Baby doesn't need another for last call. Going home at 3:30 isn't a failure. When Baby gets cajoled, he gets annoyed, and there's nothing as unpleasant as a big, drunk, annoyed Baby.

At this time of night, Baby might not like it if you poke, prod or shove him. He'll probably respond with his favorite piece of dialogue from Rainman: "Hot water burns Baby."

Baby doesn't take his cell phone to work. He already struggles to remember his keys, wallet and iPod. Throwing a cell phone into the mix will only mean one thing: a lost cell phone.

Baby doesn't like personal calls at work to begin with. That's why we have e-mail. Baby has to keep his head in the game. One phone call, and a productive afternoon morphs into a free hour at high school. As much as Baby likes to get silly on the weekend, he also needs to be an intense bad-ass at work. Baby will not react well when you call to tell him a funny story or try to get him to go out for a beer after work. His reaction will be similar to a hyena interrupted in the middle of tearing into a wildebeest carcus. That's one fierce Baby!

Speaking of which, Baby almost never drinks on weeknights. Not even two or three. Because he'll still wake up with just a little of that hoppy paste in his mouth, and feel dry enough that he'll want to drink a little extra juice or water before heading out. This will fuck up Baby's entire day. Baby's morning priorities are limited: sleep in as late as possible and still get into work at a reasonable hour. Hence, Baby shaves before bedtime, leaps up at 9 a.m., runs into the shower, pounds some orange juice, brushes his precious baby teeth, and runs out the door. Hopefully, he remembers everything. Maybe he won't. If Baby's too slow, he'll be even grumpier. He'll rub his precious baby eyes and not want to go out in the world at the outrageously early hour of 9:25 a.m. Baby will blame himself, and he'll blame you.

Thanks for the invitation, though. Maybe I'll meet up and guzzle some Sprite.

Baby picture from bigandlittle's photostream. The baby in the picture is cuter than the one who wrote this, but their attitudes are similar.

5 comments:

Flop said...

Who's prissy now, Miss Princess Prisspot?

CrimeNotes said...

Basic vocab lesson, motherfucker: irritable does not equate to prissy. Prissy would be, "I like to cook elaborate meals, sip fine wine, and dry my hands with fluffy handtowels."

Finicky? Yes. OCD? Perhaps. Prissy? Not at all.

evil girl said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
winston said...

dude, you're missing out on the fluffy handtowels ...

Flop said...

Subtext lesson: Getting irritable when your precious routine is upset = prissy. Liking food and wine = alive.

Oh, and fluffy handtowels = kisses from a whole host of terrycloth angels.