I'm going to write up a story that a friend of mine told me about his "business trip" to Austin, where another friend of ours lives. I'm trying to figure out if these stories, hilarious when we tell them, stay funny in print.
For the purposes of this blog, their names will be "Red" and "Black," for reasons that should become obvious.
My buddy Red had to go to Dallas and Austin for business, including some sort of convention with a bunch of Texas sheriffs.
So he goes to see our buddy Black Friday afternoon in Austin, and they hang out for a while at his place, which I imagine involves beer. They head out for the night.
Red told me they went to the nicest steakhouse in Austin, which he said is comparable to a Ruth's Chris or another really expensive steakhouse. Red wore shorts. Black had on a backwards baseball cap.
They sat at the bar for about two hours. Then they decided to have dinner.
After dinner they headed outside, thinking it was getting late. The sun was still up. So they were standing there, trying to decide how best to spend the evening. And Black says "Strip Club."
If you didn't say "Of course" there, stop reading.
Two hours later I got a call from Red. Most of it was unintelligible. He called me back a little later from a cab, where he and Black were doing Georgia cheers. I hung up shortly after I heard Red say "Yeah, I'll go to Europe with you. Are we gonna blank some blanks in Europe?"
I hung up. I figured it wouldn't get better than that. But I talked to him again on Sunday.
After the strip club Red and Black headed to a dueling piano bar. Why has not been explained to me.
As they walked one of the pianists had just finished playing the Texas fight song. You should probably already know where this is going.
They gave the piano guys $20 to play the Georgia fight song. They got up on stage and gave the Texas "hook 'em horns" sign, upside down. Red tells me this is "like flipping someone off in Texas."
So after the Georgia fight song plays, some of the Texas folks are trying to pay the piano guys to play the Texas fight song again. Trust me, they messed with the wrong idiots.
Two hours and $400 later (not including whatever they spent on their own drinks and drinks for what I'm sure was any lady in the bar) the bartender announced that "It looks like we've got a Georgia bar right here in Austin, Texas."
As my buddy Red said: "It was me and Black's bank account versus the bar's, and we won. Or lost."
Red had to go to his convention on Saturday. He said every sheriff in Texas wears tight jeans, a big belt buckle and a hat.
He was so hungover he could barely speak.