Location: Washington D.C.
Time: See title
I was about three weeks into the Washington D.C. Fire academy as a new hire firefighter. Two of my fellow recruits decided to join me for a night out at a wonderful Irish pub. Now let us get some facts straight. Guys go out to pubs, bars and clubs for two reasons. To get drunk and pick up chicks(or guys if that is your thing). Girls on the other hand go out to network, be seen and flirted with, or just hang out.
So the three of us go out. My name is David, and then there is Mark and Joe. Mark and I have no problem talking to girls, but Joe is shy. So we decide to work as a team and help Joe pick up a girl tonight. No problem. We spend the first hour or so chatting about work and drinking some nice beers. None of of that watery garbage. I’ve always been high class. Newcastle at minimum. Once the pub has filled up we start looking around. Joe points out the object of his attraction and I move in for the kill. I’ve always hated small talk and prefer off the wall conversations but the majority of the public disagrees with me so I stick to the usual script. After five minutes we have a good but boring conversation going and I direct her over to where my friends are sitting and we join them. So now the four of us are having a little chat. Slowly Mark and I direct our attention away from the conversation and Joe and his mark begin a nice one on one.
Fast forward a few hours. Joe is still carrying on very well while Mark and I are getting quite worse for wear. The pub is now a slow motion blur in my mind. Our lady friend excuses herself for a moment and Joe leans over the table to tell us she will be going home with him. “Excellent” we both say before going back to our glasses.
Our lady friend returns and a little conversation starts up. I’m not sure what it is about mostly because somebody appears to have unkindly put cotton balls in my ears, but no matter. I concentrate to the best of my ability and realize she is talking to me(after she lightly slapped me on the cheek). I catch the words “Do you like guacamole?” For some reason this set me off. I reply clear as a bell “Hell no I don’t like guacamole”, reach over the table, and slap her in the face. She quickly stands up, spilling her beer into her purse, and walks straight out the door. Joe starts cracking up. He says “You know what, I should be pissed at you right now, but that might have been the funniest thing I have ever seen.”
But I was not to escape that night events so easily. The next day at the academy saw crawled across my locker in huge letters the words “Hell no I don’t like guacamole.”