Sunday Scaries: Take Home Pizzas, Bar Bands and Uber Profiling.

There’s a good two to three hours on Sundays where I️ just hate myself. I’m a pretty responsible dude, the worst I️ do is usually just drinking too many beverages. But regardless the severity of my Saturday night sins, I️ always fall victim to the Sunday Scaries.

Somethings are out of your control, like when a girl falls out of her chair and mushes your face when you help her up. Some things are totally your fault though, like deciding to bring home a whole large pizza. A lot of people say a Gatorade before bed will stop any hang overs from happening, but I️ say a dump truck of cheese and carbs does the job ten times better. If you’re drinking beer all night you got to fight fire with fire, or in this case, carbs with carbs.

I️ have a lot a questions that won’t ever be answered. Like were the White Stripes married or brother and sister? Where is the real Michael Jackson? Is Thanksgiving a real holiday any more, or just a practice dinner for Christmas? The most important one is why do bands at bars think we want to hear anything besides alternative hits? I️ mean look we all have preferences, but the most widely appreciated genre is alternative rock. And I️ would never want to limit some one creatively, but when you’re playing in the corner of a bar, you should be playing for the crowd. People get too crafty sometimes and it kills the mood when I’m trying to drain $3 Rolling Rock tall boys. Give us Chili Peppers, Kings of Leon, Sublime, Third Eye Blind, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana or some Cage the Elephants, on some more recent shit. Then you can keep your ace in the wholes for the end of the night like Ball and Chain, Piano Man, Freebird and of course Closing Time. Just what ever you do, please don’t burden us with a three hour psychedelic jam session.

Uber is a life saver. Yea they might leave me bankrupt, but not having a DUI is pretty dope. I’m a big brand loyalty guy, so I️ can honestly say I️ have never bought a lyft. I️ have noticed something with Uber though, you really only get three kinds of drivers. First you have the “I️ drove taxi cabs for thirty years” drivers. They usually chai smoke the whole ride and have great stories. It’s always a fast and fun ride, but you smell like Pati and Selma after. Second is the “Extra bread” drivers. These are your every day person just looking to make a few bucks and get off the coach. It’s usually a slow, stress free ride. Nothing notable just pointA to pointB. Last, and sometimes least, is the “‘Are you guys gonna be there all night?'” drivers. These Uber drivers are basically a hell in the cell match on wheels. They let you crack beers in the back seat, they toss around the aux cord and have no concern for human life. They are a double edge sword because they oftentimes are the creepy ones. Either they text you three days later offering you a free ride, or they show up to the bar an hour after the dropping you off talking about “I️ just cashed out I’ll buy us a round!”.

So I️ mean that’s just some stuff I’ve been pondering after a night of unsuccessful shots being shot and 40,000 calories being consumed. Now to let football erase my pain.

I️ Got You,

Sean Thompson

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