Big Grizz Goes On Post College Spring Break

By Big Grizz

From what I'm told by the virtual Neilson box that tells us how many people read our blog, my last installment (Big Grizz Meets the Parents) was the highest rated post in unread blog history!

In order to capitalize on my popularity, I did what any decent, self-respecting lazy ass would do. I took a week off.

So the good news is you get two columns this week as well as the world premiere of my banter style column with my good pal Mufasa who I had the pleasure of visiting in his kingdom of sunny Florida for Long Weekend 08!

I think rather than bore you with the details of Mufasa and Big Grizz hitting the clubs, soaking up sun on the beach, and sleeping with women we barely knew, I want to focus on 2 key stories.

The first involved Big Grizz and Mufasa rendezvousing with some Super Seniors who were living the dream down in Coconut Grove. These party hardy long weekenders were ready to get their drink on with guys who were doing it right. They were going to remind us how to do flaming
shots and talk to random girls. You know... like you did in college. So sure enough - Grizz and Mufasa start pounding beers college style before Super Seniors show up. Sure enough, Super
Seniors show up and start yawning and talking about "early flights."

Now if I may indulge myself for a moment. You are on Spring Break. You are still in college. It may be a lot creepier when you hit on freshmen girls since you've been there approximately 20% of your life, but you are still legally and morally obligated to do so. Do not yawn at 10 PM. If you do yawn, one of your other Spring Breakers is supposed to call you a name and tell you to do things like "sack up." Do not yawn. Because when you yawn, you cause old people like those of use who sit at a desk all day wondering what the hell we are doing with ourselves to yawn. You cause those of us who have 36 glorious hours to really let our hair down to "reign it in." There is no yawning on spring break. At that point I should have ordered a round of Jaegerbombs for the table. No one does Jaegerbombs and does not feel the need to eat a drywall sandwich afterwards. Jaegerbombs=Spring Break=College. There I did it. I made a mistake. I did not order Jaegerbombs and our night ended pre-maturely.

So I bet at this point you are flipping out over there in Readerland. Don't worry as I ran into a homeless guy who went ahead and TOTALLY REDEEMED the night. We were walking past what i can only describe as a swank art gallery. You know it was really swank because the pictures (or paintings if you are an art snood) were "on the walls" and not "in a bin." Inside this massive store was a whole lot of empty space and about 15 paintings on the wall. They had some sort of event going on where people were canoodling and looking at the art and hating their lives.

What I would like to happen is for these art galleries to look like Crap*Mart on the Day After Thanksgiving. You know, where massive crowds assemble outside and trample over each other to get one of the 20 toasters that is marked down to $1.99 or the Charles Grodin DVD box set for $0.79. But no, no one ever sees a guy walk out of there with a piece of art under his arm. As a matter of fact I would contend no one has ever bought a piece of art in an art gallery...ever.

So anyways, we're walking past this homeless guy who asks us for 80 cents for a bus trip home. Where home was is debatable and a bus going to said place is even more debatable, but naturally I digress. So we keep walking past this art gallery and his pal yells out to us, "Can I have $1000 to buy a painting?" Ok, so I lost it. That was freaking hilarious and one of those times where you really wish you had so much discretionary income so you could give that guy $1000 to
walk in there and buy a painting. Oh MAN. That would be hilarious. I'm gonna do that some day, mark my words.

Story #2

Everyone has that one moment. That moment that can define a lifetime, and if the stars align right much, much more than that. These are the moments that can inspire a generation to do something great. I am certain I had that moment on a cloudy Sunday afternoon...playing Lightning Bingo.

You see 4 years ago as we were cruising around the city whistling at girls and listening to techno music on Spring Break 04, I noticed an oasis, a beacon of truth, a culture phenomenon. That place is Lightning Bingo. I promised myself that day that I would return someday to try my hand at that game. How can you combine two things that kick so much butt? Ask any one what defines a great Catholic and the answer will unequivocally be Bingo. Ask any who's been struck by it and they will tell you that the biggest butt-kicking they ever received was from lightning. Lightning and Bingo. Cookies and Cream. Bert and Ernie. Sometimes you stick two things together and you get an explosion of greatness. Ever tried to force together two things with the same charge? No you haven't because if you had you would have exploded.

So needless to say Mufasa and I were a little intimidated heading into this great unknown. I can imagine it was going to be a lot like Cecil B. DeMille's portrayal of Moses (Charlton Heston) coming down from hanging out with God up on the mountain in the burning bush.

Anyways, we walk in and within this "casino" filled with a jungle of slot machines and prime rib buffets was a fish bowl like room. Illuminated on the front were those two words: Lightning and Bingo. Kind of like the tractor beam that draws in the Millennium Falcon we began to drift towards this place without actually moving our feet. What occurred inside was a blur but I will do my best to retell the tale.

The game consists of a card with 3 numbers of your choosing, 1-70. In lottery like fashion, a lady rattles off numbers that come off a machine I swear they ripped off my local Pick 3 lotto. You place a $1 chip on each number you get until someone screams out Bingo! before they read off the next number. If you get 0 numbers you lose $3.25 (includes 0.25 to the house). If you get 1 number you lose $2.25 and if you get 2 numbers you lose $1.25 and if you get all three numbers the riches of heaven are open to you. We were obviously novices in a room filled with people from every walk of life yet all looked as though they were like the Knight who found the
Holy Grail in The Last Crusade and had spent the better part of 900 years just sitting in there waiting for the next guy to come through to sip from the cup of greatness (or Styrofoam cups filled with complimentary coke or coffee). After going through $30 very quickly I was strangely addicted. I went to the ATM got some more cash which I called my "limit." While I was gone I had Mufasa find me a new card. He spent the moments I was gone to select one for me. As soon as I walked in the room my eyes were drawn across to these three magical numbers: 3, 17, and 47. They called to me and so I sent Mufasa to go and get them. As he was gone the card he gave me caught fire. BAM Bingo. I'm back in the game and rolling in dough. I have him hand me the card I had sought across the room. BAM Bingo. Suddenly I've got $150. I begin drooling and speaking in gibberish lost in the moment, in the game.

Mufasa got me to snap out of it and we walked out champions counting $20 bills all the way home.

So there you have it. The greatest moment of my life. I don't blame you if you never read another thing I write.

Until next week's installment: Big Grizz Pretends He's in College with Friends Who Come Into Town for St Patrick's Day