Man's Weekend, Part 2

Friday, Day 2: Let 'Em "Pour"

Day Two started early, as we had an eleven o’clock tee time at Shore Gate Golf Club. After feeling queasy at the fees – Eighty dollars? Get out of here! – we trudged onto the rain-soaked course, which had more sand than Qatar. Thankfully, Vinnie continued his alcohol-induced exploits by drinking lots and lots of “Par Juice,” also known as vodka gimlets. A few holes later, he was playing demolition derby with the golf carts, and using “creative math” for his scores. By the end of the day, most of us were in the triple digits and laughing at yet another drunken Vinnie.

We went back to the house, where Vinnie screamed through another ice cold shower – the heat and electricity in the bungalow were kaput – and we prepared for the greatest bar ever: The Pour House. The Pour House is an Irishman’s dream; Guinness on tap, authentic Irish food, and a photo of an uber-hot nameless redhead near the front door. Friday nights are Pint Nights, and every participant gets a Pour House pint glass. I think Vinnie acquired a dozen of them throughout the years, and uses them as his good china.

At the Pour House, we suffered through another Flyers loss, but at least Vinnie and Badger were having a good time. A group of old bitties – they had to be at least 40 – came into the bar and took a liking to my jackass friends. Vinnie and Badger gave them the attention they so desperately craved, and although nothing happened, they made the old bats’ day.

As for me, I can’t remember how many pints of Guinness I downed, but I drove everyone home. For some unknown reason, Guinness rarely gets me hammered. The last we saw Badger and Vinnie, they followed the octogenarians to LaCosta. It was probably Geritol Night.