The Eight of Spades

... or, call the SPCA, you should be spayed

The past few weeks, we've been playing a fun little game called Redneck Life. It's like The Game of Life, but with a redneck slant. The winner is the one with the most teeth after the "Day of Reckonin'" and money is used as a tie-breaker. A word to the wise: Don't enter the hog calling contest if Scott is playing. You'll lose.

We went to Flying Pie for dinner tonight. It was a little more crowded than usual, but who wants to cook on a holiday? It's all about making someone else labor for you, right? Or did I get that wrong...

Anyway, we grabbed a table near the front... usual table in the back was dirty, and we weren't about to sit in the game room. Things were nice and kicked-back for awhile until the family (or group) with two adults and seven kids came in and took up residence at the long table next to us.

We heard them long before we saw them. Yelling, arguing, wanting quarters to play games, you name it. The worst part, up to that point, was when they took their stack of plates to the table, clacking and banging all the way. I used to work at FP. I washed those plates on a regular basis. Even at my worst, I never made that much noise loading or unloading the dishwasher or stacking those god-damned plates. It must be some kind of redneck gift.

But hey. The plates provided the foundation for the yelling and bickering that followed. I think there were 7 young 'ens. Probably a fair amount of Darryls. One girl in the lot. I felt sorry for her, until she started talking.

"I sooooooo want these Vans."

The kid across from her, couldn't have been more than eight, comes back with, "Vans are gay."

"They are not!! They're at Hot Topic and they're sooooooo cool."

"Hot Topic is gay."

And so on and so forth.

Then the thought occurred to me: What the fuck are these kids being taught?

When did the meaning for gay change? When did "gay" become interchangeable with "lame" or "crappy"? Why that word? You don't hear people saying "that's so jap" or "that's so Irish." Yeah, I know that's a rant for another day, but that shit ain't right in my world. People never seem to have an answer for that. And they seem to get really uncomfortable when I substitute "gay" with "jap." Funny, that.

The dominant redneck in the group was a real winner. He had an over-grown mullet and was wearing a Slayer t-shirt. The icing on the cake was the big, blue cast on his right arm and the MGD he was drinking. I can only guess the cast was from a "hold my beer and watch this" kind of train wreck. And MGD? Sweet fucking dog. Customers like him are the whole reason FP has to stock shitty beer. But I digress yet again.

You see the profile pic. You know what my hair looks like. I really don't need to get into a staring contest with a wall-eyed redneck spawn. I think I've lived long enough to not have to put up with that. But stare he did... because clearly, I'm a "ferrener." Yeah. What the fuck are you looking at, Jebidiah Ray Wayne Cletus Earnhardt III. Oh so solly. I do laundry now. Just keep swimmin, son, those webbed fingers will definitely get you a spot on the varsity swim team.

The only thing that could've made this better would've been if the kid in the high chair had crapped his pants and they changed him on the table. Or if the little shit with the cheap yellow yo-yo had hit someone with it. Oh, the sweet, sweet justice if he had popped himself in the eye with it.

We finished our meal and left, thankful to be away from the din and the gelatinous mass of redneck life.

I'll tolerate a decent amount of shenanigans. But don't fuck up a meal at the Flying Pie.