Tuesday, August 30, 2005

Fillay Minyawn

I've actually been to Buffalo, NY twice. The first time was a couple years ago for Dan's family reunion. Lots of fun, and we were staying in a rental house right on Lake Erie. It was like going to the beach, the water was unbelievable--we went swimming, fishing, tubing, wake boarding, sea kayaking, it was a blast. I never dreamed Buffalo had this to offer.


Buuuuut, this last trip we were in Downtown Buffalo which is pretty much a hole. Very cheesy. I could go years without seeing/hearing testosterone-filled Italian goombahs with gold chains yelling and getting in fights. Damn! I hope goombah isn't a bad slang term.

Dictionary.com defines it as A companion or associate, especially an older friend who acts as a patron, protector, or adviser, then adds Probably alteration of Italian compare, godfather, from Medieval Latin compater. See compadre.
Maybe there's a better word for it. Cuz Goombah is sounding pretty bad, now. And,
hey, you know I don't like to generalize. But damn I'm sicka 'em goombahs. As Dan says, they're the rednecks of the north.

You're NOT gonna believe this, but I got Drunk at the wedding reception. Yeah, I know! Seriously!
It was at the fanciest country club in Buffalo--picture bow-tied employees acting like they were put on this earth to bring you a drink and a bacon-wrapped scallop. But also the kind of place where the same employee would come up to you and shut your cell phone right in your face if you brought it out. This happened to happen to one of Dan's cousins who I happen to like.
I hate that shit. Shit happens. So to retaliate I put a cigarette butt out on the putting green nearest to the club house. Take that, Buffalo Country Club!

I don't eat beef/chicken/pork...nothing but occasional seafood--- this night I even ate a bite of Dan's filet mignon.... But that didn't bother me nearly as much as the grilled shrimp that were so
GIANT and dry it was like eating one of those fuckin' hairless cats. The salad was good, though....

Here's an interesting anecdote, and a game you might want to try sometime---the more inappropriate the location, the funnier. While on the dance floor, I tried to see how long I could keep my butt touching the butt of the mother of the groom, who I didn't know. What I found was that I could do it for the better part of an entire song, which was most likely "Soul Man," or something comparable. The craziest thing about this was I don't think she noticed, but I am sure everyone else did. It was pretty impressive. Then I sat next to her on the 20 minute shuttle ride back to the hotel. I don't exactly know what we talked about? But I do know she never mentioned our asses.

So, back at the hotel, I of course took off and walked 2 blocks by myself to the strip of bars near the hotel in my 'wedding' dress to buy a $6.50 pack of cigarettes, had a beer on the patio of a cheesy bar looking out onto cheesy Chippewa Street, then walked back to the hotel. With Dan's family, there's just always some cousin ready to hang out. I love that about them. So, we hung. Then I thought it only appropriate to end the evening by sitting in the fountain outside the Buffalo Hyatt at 5:00 in the morning. Dan was asleep pretty much this whole time.

Aren't I precious?



2 Comments:

Blogger ablebody said...

my brains the coal and my heart's the bitter buffalo.

1:16 AM  
Blogger ablebody said...

moreplease.

3:56 PM  

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