Sunday, July 12, 2009

Never go here

Medieval Times. Good Christ.

Where does one begin? Its hard to know what's worse. Is it worse for me to have been there at all or is cosmically worse that a couple chose to celebrate their seventh wedding anniversary there with a joint knighting? That's pretty bad but as in all things I gonna say its worse for me. By a lot.

But worst of all I think are the people who work there. It seems to me they fall into two distinct camps; those that would rather be anywhere else and those who would not be anywhere else for anything. They both cause me lots of pain but for very different reasons.

When the serving wench comes by with the tip tray after having asked, "will you be needing a take home bag for your roast dragon my lord?" I want to give her all my money and just hope she takes off running as fucking fast and far as she possibly can. I want to liberate her. She prays every night that the Hooters by the airport will be hiring soon and Im going to start praying for her too.

But when the Green Knight (our knight) comes galloping by I can't help but notice how much time and effort has gone into cultivating his sweet jerri-curl mullet, in fact alllllll the knights have a sweet jerri-curl mullet. The King too, and it doesn't flatter a man his age. Not only that but the young squire knights-in-waiting are starting to grow out their hair in the same Harlequin Romance cover model style, pining for the day they get called up to the Bigs. This isn't a summer job, these people are making a fucking career choice and I can't decide if it would be more awful to be trapped at a social function next to a Professional Knight or an aspiring Professional Knight.

Im hoping these people keep mostly to themselves.

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