I have been trying to catch a squirrel for years. I remember my friends and I fanning out on Brinser field and surrounding one. The plan was to put it in a Pringles can and leave it outside Monica’s door (Sorry, Mon ) Our barehanded efforts were fruitless.
Today, as I walked into work, I saw my coworkers surrounding the claw machine with umbrellas and brooms, and I knew this was my moment. At first my weapon of choice was umbrella, but I quickly could tell this squirrel meant business. I armed myself with an empty cardboard box and joined the mob. Six of us chased this little guy (or girl, gender equity) for about 45 minutes. He made his way back and forth through the skate shop and under the claw machine several times. Finally, I trapped him in my cardboard box, and we took him outside and set him free. Craziness.
On Friday night, a group of about 15 of us went out for some karaoke. It turned out that there was no karaoke, but a reggae-ton rapper instead. It was the pre-cinco de mayo party. Between “rappings” the music sounded like Spanish polka. With some coaxing, I decided to ask a little old Spanish woman to dance. BIG MISTAKE. The first time was alright, I learned a little Spanish jig. As she got increasingly more drunk, she continued to come back and ask me to dance. I obliged the first few times. The last time, I tried to stay put, and she decided to do a little booty dance on me. Whoa, boy. I got out of there shortly thereafter, but not without first winning a CD for being an awesome dancer from Eddie G, the Spanish rapper.
Good times in the neighborhood.