CODE OF THE WEEKEND WARRIOR

( Are the stakes higher for a Spring Friday than any other Friday of the year ? Are Spring Fridays so delicious that a martini should be named after them ? Should Spring Fridays enter beauty competitions or would that be unfair to the ladies ? These were thoughts that raced through my Friday enhanced brain as I hopped on my bicycle and rode out to a friends’ back-yard barbeque yesterday after work. I wondered how excited somebody could get about Fridays and weekends.

When I sat down to write this however, in the sober state of Saturday morning, my story ended up going to the dark side. The flipside of fun. The sweaty desperation of weekday drones drinking their way to oblivion.

Optimism ? Pessimism ? Whateverism. Here’s the story...)

CODE OF THE WEEKEND WARRIOR

We don’t mind the fact that he shouts a countdown to five o’clock on Fridays so loud that our ears are sometimes left ringing. We don’t mind that he bumps into us as he races into the bathroom with his backpack stuffed with his weekend warrior costume. We don’t mind that when he comes out dressed in pink tights with a black cape and black mask, he hollers out, ”Are you ready to rumble, cause I won’t fumble the fun. We’ll get wasted till it’s done.” We don’t mind that he sometimes spits on us while he’s screaming out his prophecies of fun. We don’t mind that he sometimes borrows money to fuel his beer-holstered cap, the one with tubes that supply his mouth with“turtle-juice” (This is what he calls alcohol because it brings him out of his shell he says.) “Rah-rah-rah Turtle-juice, Rah-rah-rah Turtle-juice, Rah-rah-rah Turtle-juice,” we don’t mind that he sings this as we go to the local pub. We don’t mind that he’s weird and really stands out. We don’t mind that he stuffs his mouth with beer caps and tries to sing popular beer commercials. We don’t mind that people yell at him and call him “faggot”. We don’t mind that he drinks until he passes out into someone’s fist.

We don’t mind any of this as it provides us with conversation for Monday morning around the water-cooler.

What we really can’t stand, however, is you. Your questions that leave us wondering in pointless directions. Your cynicism about the future of mankind. Your income bracket that fails to provide you with trips to exotic locals that we can relate to. Your failure to grasp the fact that money is always the bottom line. Your denial of Friday fun.

But we don’t have to worry about any of that as the weekend warrior will soon be droning out any sounds of doubt with Friday afternoon hoots.