BEFORE WE BEGIN: To be perfectly clear, as a bellman, I have no qualms about serving, well, anyone. However, there is a small percentage of parents whose children play the great Canadian sport of hockey that make my skin crawl from my skeletal frame and slink into the shadows.
Yes, as one would imagine, its quite a sight.
This ranty list is directed at these individuals. Their behavior is reprehensible. Their minds are a maelstrom of obnoxious put-downs and incoherent declarations. In short, they make my life a living damnation, though thankfully, only temporarily.
This is for you… you poor – yet rich – deluded bastards.
FUN FACT: As I was writing this post, a trio of hockey dads approached:
#1: Can we have one of those wheelie-thingies for our bags?
ME: Well, sir, we don’t give the wheelie-thingies out, but I’ll be happy (not really) to help you. We’re a full-service property.
#2: AW, FORGET IT! (He was so loud, my fillings shook.) WE DON’T NEED ANY HELP1 WE GOT IT!
#3: YEAH, WE’RE GOOD!
ME: YEAH, WE DON’T NEED NO STINKING BADGES!
Silence and perplexed looks abounded from all three.
ME: Sorry, I got caught up in the moment.
Isn’t serving the public just delightful at times? And now, on with the show…
31) Shave Rob Ford’s back. Yes, he has cancer. But cancer patients don’t want special treatment (well, yes, they want special treatment from the medical profession, but not others), so I’m going to rag on Ford as I would anyone else that has behaved like a drunken, drugged-out buffoon for the last four years.
30) Walk into a packed comic con full of nerds and announce “I FULLY SUPPORT BATFLECK!”
29) Live with ten of those nerds in anyone of their mom’s basements for one calendar year.
28) Sit in a room with any Kardashian for sixty minutes – and not strangle them for the good of humanity and future generations.
27) Mind-meld with David Lynch for a full minute.
26) Tell my wife about my love life, pre-marriage. Such as it was.
25) Volunteer as a wrangler for William Shatner’s hairpiece. Don’t get me wrong, I love the Shat as much any geek, but his hair is almost as great a tragedy as Donald Trump’s “natural disaster.
24) Allow Wolverine to give me a prostate examination – with his bone claws. I’ll say it for you… NERD!!!
23) Eat haggis. Admittedly, I don’t actually know exactly what that is, but it sounds icky.
22) Drink a flask of anything that was brewed by rednecks.
21) Make a buddy movie with Kevin “Mr. Wonderful” O’Leary.
20) Live with the cast of Jersey Shore for six months.
19) Give up bacon. Many of you are screaming “NOOO!!!” at the top of your lungs right now. It’s okay… let it out.
18) Allow myself to be stuffed and added to The Bloggess’ menagerie.
17) Walk around Harlem with a “Honkys rule!” t-shirt.
16) Give out my home address to everyone on Twitter. Even those individuals who have people buried in their basements.
15) Walk up to Vincent Pastore (“Big Pussy” of The Sopranos), and call him an actual pussy.
14) Sit quietly and write this damn post. Seriously, lists are hard, y’all.
13) Give up my cart to a hockey family. If you really know me, you’ll realize the impact of that statement.
12) Dress up as Wonder Woman – period. And yes, I realize that image has ruined all of you for life.
11) Shoot myself in the foot with a wooden bullet.
10) Undertake another post like this one. Seriously, lists are hard, y’all.
9) Work an entire shift in in my Superman boxer shorts. We‘re already down the rabbit hole, anyway…
8) Tell my wife I just started following Bree Olson on Twitter.
7) Star a career as an adult film “actor”. Let’s face it, most people assume “The Hook” is a reference to my junk anyway.
6) Serve teachers. Seriously, teachers are horrible guests. They make bad hockey parents look human.
5) Walk up to a pack of hockey parents and announce, “Field hockey is the only real hockey worth following!”
4) Take out several mortgages on my house to bankroll a series of action movies featuring myself and Ned Hickson.
3) Borrow money from a guy named “Lenny the Loan Shark” to bankroll a series of action movies featuring myself and Ned Hickson.
2) Live in a van down by the river. I miss Farley…
1) Hand my laptop over to my wife… without deleting the browser history.
All right, I’m knackered.
See you in the lobby, kids…