Waxing Philosophical

During the previous decade, there was something of a tradition among a few of my friends. It was an annual Boxing Day trip, in which I, Shannon, and Bob would travel from Airdrie to Calgary to visit the madness that was the malls. Shannon always brought along some of her own company, but the person whom Shannon invited seemed to change by the year.

Some years the experience was excellent, while other times the experience was less than adequate. For example, one year that we decided to hit the Boxing Day sales, we decided to stop off at Denny's before our adventure. In Denny's, I think I may have been a bit too sarcastic to the server that we had and I'm pretty sure she did something to my apple juice. Now, I would like to keep this entry reasonably classy, so instead of referring to the grumbling and eventual horror show by its actual name, I will refer to it as "waxing philosophically."

After about twenty minutes from when I downed my apple juice, I had the worst case of waxing philosophical that I think I've ever experienced in my life! My stomach sounded like someone blowing bubbles under water. I made a mad dash for the washroom and I'm not going to lie to you...it was a photo finish. I was very fortunate that all that had really been in my stomach was tainted apple juice and water, so there were no offensive odours. However, I can only describe the audio coming from that bathroom as a jet engine while a bird is being sucked through it. Damn, I never knew waxing philosophical could be so loud and embarrassing, but it was. The fella taking a leak at the urinal was probably wondering what the hell I ate that was putting up such a fight.

Anyway, after a tumultuous several minutes, I managed to extricate the philosophies and was comfortable once more. I left the washroom and noticed the stares of those unlucky enough to be put close to the doors.  Ignoring them and hoping there was no leakage on my pants, I returned to the table and proceeded to bitch about the server and her poison apple juice. We left the restaurant soon after. On the way to our first stop, Market Mall, I insisted we stop at a convenience store. I bought a big bottle of Pepto Bismol and would tank back a gulp every little while. It was helping. I wasn't feeling nauseous at all. Dave 1, stupid bitch server 0.

Market Mall was pretty much as expected. Busy, busy, busy. Bob and I were having a good time, usually getting up to mischief since we weren't really interested in shopping and Shannon and company abandoned us to try on clothes they had no intention to buy. However, after a short while, I felt philosophy coming back with a vengeance. The Pepto wasn't working anymore and I knew that I would have to reach a washroom in short order. I told Bob that trouble was brewing, and like a champ Bob ran with me to the loo. I bursted into the stall and got ready to wax philosophical once again. This time it was worse. Like two freight trains sounding horns at the same time while smashing into a school bus full of screaming children with their feet on fire. It was unavoidable.

Now Bob, being arguably one of the best people I know, stepped up in a way I would have never imagined. In order to help drown out the sound of my philosophical waxing, Bob began to engage in hysterical bouts of laughter and screaming. Imagine the Joker and a hyena competing for who can be the most obnoxious and loud and that is what Bob sounded like. I began to laugh and yell as well to further cover up the awful gurgles and plunks from below. It was so epic, made even more epic by the gentleman in the next stall screaming at us:

"Would you guys SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

After about five minutes, I was clear of any remaining philosophy. Bob and I left the washroom in tears from the laughter. I survived the rest of the day without even a glimmer of philosophy. I had survived.

Moral of the story? Don't piss off your server!

And as a final note I must say that I'll never forget what Bob did for me that day. It meant a lot to me, and is great to know that I have a friend true enough to make a complete ass out of himself to help spare me some serious embarrassment. So seriously...thank you Bob. You're the greatest!