November 11th, 1995
Alright, allow me to set the stage here... I'm a young, newly crowned 21 year old with a highly trained, well seasoned, Olympic quality liver. My supervisor of 60 days (Chip) invites me to a post-work cocktail at The Hideaway Lounge, which was an offer at the time no College Drinking Legend considers turning down. What I didn't know was the we were also embarking on an annual ritual that has on more than one occasion has reduced that same liver to swiss cheese!
I learned a great deal Year One:
"Never mix your booze with anything but ice..."
"Lee Smith was Worthless"
"Always take your opponent's points in Cribbage unless it's your Mom"
And I even learned why one side of the V-Formation of Flying Geese is longer than the other one...
Although this information has served me well, it was Year Two that will forever be etched into the deepest recesses of my mind. I could have Amnesia and forget my own name, but try as I will, I cannot forget hers...
What might have been Barack Obama's homeless Sister "Jo-Jo" had just been kicked off a Greyhound bus for starting a fist fight in the 10th row and had landed her ass in the Cat's Paw on a typical Tuesday in November. It just so happens this Tuesday, was November 11th. The gathering had built a little momentum and we had doubled in size to 4, which is important considering what was about to happen couldn't have been scripted. It's still widely assumed that we fabricated the story, but I can tell you, I was there.... I saw it unfold.....
So, as I eluded to earlier, Jo-Jo was black, she had been kicked off the bus for fighting, and without any coaxing she also informed us, that she was a stripper. Now, before you get your hopes up, let me tell ya, we're not talkin Halle Berry, Beyonce, or Whitney Houston here, more like a cross between Aretha Franklin and Star Jones before the Nutrisystem. Let's put it this way, I don't know what the other woman, or man for that matter looked like in the 10th row of the Greyhound Bus, but I know this..... He or she didn't stand a chance.
So there we are, $5.00 pitcher night at the Cat's Paw with a Fighting Black Stripper! I'm not sure if this is a family blog or not so I'm going to leave the pornographic content to your imagination but I'll leave ya with this... If you ever find yourself in a Cowboy Bar in Pre-Rainbow Coalition Bozeman, Montana on $5 pitcher night, take it from me you'll want to avoid the Black Strippers and Brady Quinn for that matter.
So tonight after a long day at the office, pour yourself a drink, ice only... clear liquids if you must. Look to the sky as the Geese are headed on, and remember great men continue to give great advice even after they are gone.
Cheers Walter Raymond Gibbs!!