SMILE LIKE YOU MEAN IT 

Tuesday was my fifth day off in the past eight days. Call it a mini-vacation. Starting Wednesday, the schedule is back to normal and with football season rearing its ugly head, I really enjoyed each day off. I had a pool party, watched Summerslam and had a Zephyrs-Cubs game planned with my dad Tuesday night.

Dad calls at 6 p.m. and tells me he's too tired to make the game. There went that plan. So, I do the next best thing. I head over to Bruno's to watch the real Cubs and call some folks to meet me there. Of course, only Paul eventually showed up.

Right after Paul arrived at about 9:30 p.m., I look over to the table behind us and spot a beautiful baby (Swingers. Classic. Jon Favreau. Tall guy from Dodgeball). I smile at her. She smiles right back. At her table is another girl and a couple. I'm contemplating a move when like seven people join their group, and they move to a bigger table in the back. Ugh. Still no guy with her, though. I tell Paul I'll wait for her to go to the bar for a drink and approach. For the next hour, a waiter brings them drinks, then they play darts. Too many people around her for me to go in. Finally, she heads for the bar. And action. I walk up there and stand next to her right after she orders. Whoa, she's even more beautiful up close.

Me (charmingly): Excuse me. You're beautiful. Um. Can I ... 

(The bartender gives her her drink, and she cuts me off.)

Beautiful Baby: I have a boyfriend. (She grabs her drink, turns away and returns to darts.)

Me (turning to the bartender): I'll take a Newcastle.

I'm fairly certain she doesn't have a boyfriend. That rejection made me feel worse than that Chinese player who went up for a layup in the opening game of the Olympics. Then LeBron comes from the other side and grabs the ball in midair. I don't think The Gene Pool line could have done any worse. My other thought: What the heck did she smile at me for?

I shake that off to notice an unhealthy amount of 20-something-year-old guys, including Paul, entranced with gymnastics. Don't they know that's a chick thing? (I feel a joke coming from you, Chuck. Stop it.) Even worse, they were watching men's gymnastics as well. I think most of them were watching in the first place because Shawn Johnson is just so darn cute. Hey fellows, she's 16. And I'm pretty sure there's already a Shawn Johnson turning legal countdown on the Internet. Sick freaks. By the way, Nick, I also like the table tennis.

Just when I think the excitement for the night has passed, three attractive girls sit at the empty table next to ours. A few minutes later, I glance over, and the cutest one smiles at me. I smile back. When I turn back to Paul, I see quite the look on his face. 

Me: You saw that?

Paul: Oh, yeah. You got this. 

Me: You think so?

Paul: Did you see that smile? You don't smile like that just to be friendly.

Me: Fair enough.

I turn back to ask the girl if she would like to join me for a chat. She's gone. I spot her headed to the bar. Paul suggests I go offer to buy her drink. I say that already didn't work; I'll just wait for her to get back. However, there is now three more people at her table, so maybe it will be harder to coax her away. Paul takes out three bucks and says: "Here. Now go." I stand next to her before she orders.

Me: Excuse me. Can I buy you this drink?

Her: (Something. Something. Something. Something. Something. Something. Something.) But thank you.

I couldn't understand the words that were coming out of her mouth. I did, however, understand those last three loud and clear. The person who submits to me the best guess as to what she might have said before "but thank you" will receive a special prize. Paul's guess to make me feel better: Um, you're cute. But I'm just visiting my friend for the night. And I'm not looking for a one-night stand. But thank you. Could be. Could be. Again I must wonder: Why did she smile at me?

I am a good catch, dammit. Any girl would be lucky to have me. At least that's what my mom keeps fucking telling me. But Tuesday did not help the old confidence meter. At least I got to see the Cubs win, and the Brewers and Cardinals both lost. So, I got that going for me. 

THE TINA CURSING CORNER

The Terminix people are coming Thursday morning. We have to pick up these bricks so Terminix can do their thang. And mom wants to move the bricks right before they come. "I don't want to go pick them up and then have it fucking storm."

Mom is watching some series on A&E called The Cleaner. After one intense scene, she says: "These are some crazy fucking people."

I'm making yet another hot dog for lunch Tuesday afternoon. When I open the chili container, I see that we are almost out. I ask mom if there is any more chili. She screams from the living room: "Open the fucking container."

Mom is watching gymnastics. "What the fuck happened on the uneven bars yesterday? They took it (the gold) away from the U.S."

CHANGING THE BASEBALL LEXICON

For the past five to ten years, I don't think I've heard the phrase game-winning home run when someone hits a homer in the bottom of the ninth as much as I've heard walk-off home run. I haven't had a problem with this phrase. In fact, I thought it was kind of hip. I recently changed my mind, though.

Derry pointed out in his blog that when a "walk-off homer" is hit, the winning team doesn't walk off the field but charges at the home-run hitter on the field and celebrates. The losing players, however, pause on the field for a few seconds before walking off the field shaking their heads. So why are we referring to the home run from the loser's point of view? That makes no sense.

Therefore, I purpose changing the phrase walk-off homer to the opposite: run-on homer. As in: Here's the pitch, Ramirez swings; it's way back. Gone. A run-on homer. Cubs win! As the announcer says run-on, the viewer will be watching the winning players running on to the field for the helmet-slapping, jumping-up-and-down thing that ballplayers do. 

PARTING SHOTS

A customer sits at the table next to mine at Bruno's at about 8:45 p.m. 

Customer: What's the special tonight?

Waiter: $2 Almost Anything.

Customer: I meant the dinner special.

Waiter: Oh, sorry. It's chicken breast. 

Customer: OK. I'll take that. (Waiter goes to put in the order. Customer shakes his head and motions for another waiter to come over.)

Customer: Excuse me. What's the drink special?

Second waiter: $2 Almost Anything.

Customer: Oh. OK.

The LSU fight song plays on the jukebox. A guy next to us starts going crazy. About halfway through he looks around the room to notice he's the only one excited. He yells out:

"Fuck all the rest of you."

THE DAILY TOP LIST

I'm a big fan of Weird Al. I have 107 songs by him on my Ipod. Here are my five favorite parodies he's done.

5) Confessions Part III. Parody of Usher's Confessions Part II.

Not a single but probably the funniest song he has done.

4) A Complicated Song. Parody of Avril Lavigne's Complicated.

I never take the extra pizza home. Thanks, Al.

3) Another One Rides the Bus. Parody of Queen's Another One Bites the Dust.

The first song he had on the charts.

2) It's All About the Pentiums. Parody of Puff Daddy's It's All About the Benjamins.

Rhymes Sarah Michelle Gellar, Old Yeller and Helen Keller.

1) Amish Paradise. Parody of Coolio's Gangsta's Paradise.

The most controversial of all his parodies. And the best.