Hey folks, this is what your brunch Floor Captain, Bar Captain (with special pin on the sash for additional captaining of Bloody Mary Bar), Grillmaster and Latin Skipper El Chad did on Sunday to wash off that special eggy film.
If brunch was a 12 step program, the presentation of the dessert menu would be the second step. Here we have Step Four, East Coast girls in a convertible, top down, shades on, ripping down the highway and listening to… guess that tune? You got it. But then you always do. That comes right after Step Three, which is crap, shower, and go to Auto Zone to hook up your car’s computer to their portable diagnostics machine.
Step Five would be the murky time in between a state trooper stopping our convertible of freaks for making an illegal U-turn on a state highway to when Tomas toweled off in my face. Both events nearly catalyzed Dick Cheney-scale tsunami heart attacks in my chest cavity. That’s the power of a well-heeled uniformed man, my friends. Also, the rush of a wet heterosexual crotch in my face. Heart attacks for the king freak, my Puritan amigos.
Step Eight is the pink Mai Tai in a long stem glass, a delicate purple flower in hair. The goal to this stage is to become the delicate flower, perched like a lemur in the red round corner VIP booth of the Chinese restaurant. My mastery of this stage in particular lead me down the path of Floor Captain. My energies peak during the afternoon when I am forced to wake up in the morning like a human being. But thats not why I love brunch. Enjoying Sunday post-brunch with friends is priceless.