We spent this weekend in Rock Island at the annual Gilda's Club benefit at ComedySportz. As usual, Pete and Josh met up with us (missed you Nikki).
The shows, the food and the company were all great as usual. Pretty much what we've come to expect in Rock Island. What we didn't expect was that we'd encounter "THE STUNTMAN."
Friday night started out normally. Great show, then had some dinner at the Blue Cat and then met some up with some folks for beers and trivia. The four of us then decided to finish the night with some drinks at the bar across the street from our hotel. It's a great dive bar with super cheap beers and complimentary peanuts where you can throw the shells on the floor. (I know, that's nothing special, but I enjoy it). Josh was at the jukebox picking out some songs, when some guy befriended him. He was just some happy-go-lucky drunk, about our age and though Josh tried to politely ignore him, the guy wouldn't leave him alone.
At one point he yells across the room for Josh to come sing with him. Apparently, this dude has selected the most beautiful song in the world on the jukebox and it was imperative that he have Josh join him. Well, none of us knew the song, but I'll tell you, songs about whores really are beautiful.
A short time later, we thought the guy had forgotten about us, but Josh's hold on him apparently couldn't be shaken. The guy brought us a pitcher of beer. OK, that was very nice and drunk of him. And we continued with our conversation.
We were interrupted yet again when he came over with a salt shaker, a shot of tequila and a lime.
"Have you guys ever seen The Stuntman?" He then proceeds to pour out some salt onto the table and line it up with a credit card. He then snorts the salt with a rolled up dollar bill, drinks the shot and then... wait for it... squeezes the lime in his eye. IN HIS EYE!!!!
We were all stunned. What was wrong with this idiot? "I've done this 57 times now!" We're still not sure if he's done the stuntman 57 times or stupid stunts like this 57 times.
Next he tells me not to worry because he had a glass eye. I didn't believe him, so he pried open his lid and showed me his eyeball, which of course was not glass. "You're a 36C aren't ya?" He proudly proclaimed that he didn't really have a glass eye, but wanted an excuse to check out my boobs. I wanted to be offended, but just burst out laughing. It takes a lot of balls to do that to a girl who's surrounded by three guys.
And then he bought us another pitcher. You're the man, drunk guy. The STUNT-man, that is. Thanks for the memories.