09/07/01 - Never Forget

Today is the Seven Year Anniversary of the Day that Shook The World - September 7th, 2001.  Besides the defeat of Saladin by Richard I in the Third Crusade and the world's first submarine attack in New York Harbor in 1776, September 7th will go into the annals of history as a day of tragedy and triumph, evil and good, salty and sweet.  September 7th is the day that I awoke to the terror around us.  Wealthy Saudi Arabian students with enough ennui to want to kill westerners.  Oh - wait.  That was the real terror around us.  Let's get back to the fabricated terror that I far more appreciate.

09/07/01: I was attacked by a dolphin.  It was just your typical suburban kid's post college vacation.  Mid August, I hopped on the the family's Gulfstream to Monaco with a couple of friends.  We had the boat waiting for us because we were going to go to the Greek islands.  A family friend owns a couple of them so we were going to stay in one of the bungalows there.  They're modest little 20,000 square foot places.  Nothing special.  

Before settling in Greece though, we wanted to stop by Tunisia to visit Carthage.  It's quite a bustling city with all the trumpet playing and jeeps overlooking the ampitheaters and all.  (Five Bucks for the first person to get that reference).  Seriously though, Tunisia.  While swimming in the Meditteranean off the coast of Tunisia off of the launch boat, I felt a tugging at my peni - my leg.  I felt a tugging at my leg.  I thought to myself "Self, now why would something be tugging on me when I left the Parisian prostitutes on board the ship?"  I reached down and I felt something silky to the touch, with raw power coursing through it.  After I took my hand out of my pants, I felt a dolphin.  There was a fucking dolphin trying to snout bang me.  Seriously, that fucker was going for the Hershey Highway like Andy Dick at a Chelsea Night Club with Kathy Griffin filming and Tom Cruise behind a two-way mirror watching the action.  

So how do I react?  How would you react?  Do you go Mythbusters on it's ass and punch the nose?  I know - sharks, but since sharks and dolphins are related, maybe it will work.  Do I try to fishhook it's blow hole?  

Right as the dolphin is about to penetrate and take my dignity, I realize - DUH - I never go swimming in Europe without a Russian made Avtomat Podvodnyj Spetsialnyj and wondered why I didn't recall that earlier, that I was in fact swimming with a 10 pound waterproof 5.6mm flechette round assault rifle over my shoulder.  

So I let off a couple rounds, right in the cranial region.  Dolphin problem solved, anal integrity preserved.

So that's why I hate dolphins and that's why 09/07/01 - Never Forget.  

Let's nuke Saudi Arabia.  That would solve a LOT of problems.

Dolphins Are Subpar Bartenders

Customer service is a dying breed - that we can all agree on. The era of the friendly bartender who has your pint of Guinness half drawn by the time you enter is nearly over. Whether you are frequenting your local Starbucks, Home Depot or Mortuary, it is nearly impossible to find a competent employee behind the bar, power tools desk or that little table to sign condolences who really knows what their business is. How often have we all suffered from an incorrectly made latte, the improper Sawzall for the job or a Noble 18 Gauge Steel brushed monarch blue finished, blue velvet lined casket when we really wanted a a mocha, circular saw or Regent brushed heritage bronze finish, almond velvet interior coffin? Too often, I say.

Further exacerbating this problem is the recent proliferation of dolphins in the service industry. While passable as bar backs and bussers, mediocre as waitstaff and tolerable as maitre d', the recent influx of dolphin bartenders has set our cause back decades. For one, having dolphins handle our precious, precious booze is sacrilege in the first place - who knows what kind of diseases they carry? Secondly, they don't remember faces, names or drinks - very important skills for bartenders. On the off chance that they do remember your drink, they're going to get it wrong. That's a guarantee. Ask for a Mind Eraser, end up with a B-52. Come to think of it, I'd like a Mind 52. It will probably wash down that horrible Manhattan that the Amazon River Dolphin bartender at Flannery's just made me. You would think an Irish pub would hire an Irish person, or at least Scottish as bartenders, but an Amazon River Dolphin? That just does not compute. 2x2=4. Now that computes.

So in addition to getting the drinks wrong on a criminal basis, the dolphin's small flipper just cannot handle a properly shaken martini, inevitably spilling on several patrons. Their abuse of the bar gun for constantly watering themselves down for fear of dessication is disgusting and off-putting to patrons. And their bar-side chatter - you know your local bartender, right? "How's the craic, boy?" Ahhh, well, I could be better, my girl just hooked up with another guy in front of me. "I'm sorry to hear that. You were better than her anyway... How's a pint and a Jameson sound?" You know what, that sounds great. Just what the doctor ordered.

Now let's replace the above Irish stereotype with a dolphin, for roleplaying's sake:

"Chirp Chirp Pip Pip Pip Clikakakakakaka Click Eeep!" Um, I'm not really sure what you said but if it's how I'm doing, well, sorta bad... you see my girl jus - "Eee eee eee ee eeee eee brrrrrrrrrrr!" Thanks for interrupting me buddy. I guess I'll have a Tullamore Dew and - "Click Click Ererererererereeek!" Um, I guess I'm going to take my business elsewhere unless you serve me a fucking drink, right now. {Bartender plays with ball, eats fish, warns of child stuck in buoy}.

OK - that never happened to me because I don't frequent the type of places a dolphin would be bartending. They're usually not at friendly neighborhood bars. Instead they usually work a W Hotel Bars or places with names like "Exit", "Libation", "k@rma" or "The Douche Factory". Since my visual aesthetic involves dark wooden walls and mirrors and not red leather divans and bottle service, I am unlikely to encounter the terrible service afforded by these creatures. Unless I were on a business trip and had to entertain prospects. But since my business trips most often involve amphibious armored personnel carriers and 7.62mm ammunition to terminate the dolphin menace, it won't actually happen.

Now for your viewing pleasure, Brian Flanagan: