The loud guy on his phone sitting behind me on the #4 bus this evening: an imagined Q&A.
Q: Are you into welding?
A: I’m fucking into welding, man. I can fucking weld anything, no shit. Number one in my fucking welding class.
Q: So who can you weld better than?
A: I can weld better than all of those motherfuckers at St. Paul Technical College.
Q: I’ve heard you often drink for free. How are you able to do this?
A: I’m in a fucking rock band, man. We play all those fucking bars down in St. Paul. So I can just fucking drink for free at any of ‘um. They all know who I am. They’ll fucking buy me drinks anytime.
Q: Do you pick up random chicks after your shows?
A: I just fucking pick up random chicks after my shows all the time, man.
Q: What’s the deal with this fucking child support shit?
A: Hey, I was just about to ask you that.
(August 3, 2009)
NOTES: A special deep cuts request from Rachel, happily fulfilled.
I suddenly have an unfortunate and guilty suspicion that bloggers across my city are writing imaginary, sarcastic Q&As about my phone and bar conversations.
