I have neglected you again, and again, blog!

Last night Becky and I hit up the bars on Whyte ave. I did the usual boring thing and decided not to drink. HOW THINGS CHANGE, BLOG.
Becky orders a drink and we decide to sit on the patio because when its +5 degrees in Canada its patio weather.  Since we're sitting alone I suppose we're prime targets to be accosted for bar-time conversation, and a man sits down next to us saying "I DISAGREE."

I look at him and say "Oh Reginald... I DISAGREE." and whether or not he gets the Family Guy reference he plays along on the disagreeing thing. About 30 seconds into his efforts he suddenly drops his entire glass of beer on the floor. It splashes onto my boots and both Becky and I go "OOPS." I'm not one to be a total bitch to every person who talks to me at the bar (despite what a lot of my blog entries may say!) and the guy was doing no harm thus far, so we laugh it off, but the guy was mortified.

He suddenly became perfectly still, not completely unlike finding a rabbit in your front yard, and in a desperate attempt to hide its presence it tucks it's ears back and stares blankly into a world of fear and survival.
He freezes, lost in embarrassment, and when he yells, he yells "FUCK,"
and he runs; he sprints away.

Surly he's being dramatic for the laughs and coming back with something for us to clean our shoes up with, right?
Right?
RIGHT?

He was gone, swift little bunny rabbit, with no game.

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