My Feet Aren't Speaking To Me....

Once upon a Saturday morn, I awoke from my slumber with butterflies and a churning in me belly. After letting out a couple of excitement induced tooters, I got ready for my audition for Deal Or No Deal! I put on some comfry shoes (flip flops) and picked up my brother's girlfriend (Hi Neen!) who decided to join me as a Deal or No Deal contestant hopeful.
After getting lost in the ghetto trying to find a bathroom, a Sudoku game book for Neen (she settled for a crossword puzzle book) and grabbing some breakfast at Jack In The Box, (greeeaassy) we were on our way.

Where: Viejas Casino
What: Deal or No Deal Audition
Arrival time: 10:30 am.

(Upon our arrival..)
me: "holy shit."
N: .....silence.......

The audition line for Deal or No Deal was over THREE BLOCKS long. So long that we didn't know where the line started and where it ended.

After a moment of struggling with our fight or flight reflex, we said fuck it. We'll fight this bitch.

We figured we were already there, armed with snacks (pop tarts, a slim jim, a bag of bbq rice cakes, 2 bags of fig newtons, and a cupcake...you know..health food.) and some water. We would not be discouraged damn it!

But first, let's find parking...


hmmm....

.hmmmm...

..oh! Oh! I see o......no...there's a really small car parked in there...

...ooooh oooh......oooh...damn.

motorcycle there ...

sonuva..muther....(mumble several obscenities in tagalog, spanish and yiddish)

After a couple of drive arounds in the parking lot, I was ready to do a beat down on Yuppie McCellphone who smugly parked in a disabled spot and cartwheeled his "disabled" ass into the casino. But thankfully, before I had to shank the accountant with my keys, Neen and I combined our super mind powers and lo and behold, a couple of old biddies were pulling out of their parking spot, clutching their bingo winnings. I gave thanks to the elderly, parked and we made our way to the end of the line.

hmmmm...

where's the end of the...

oh here it...

no....

(walk, walk, walk,)
okkaaayyyy...(seeing the line wrap around the building)
....see it?....

nope.
Ohmygod is that girl in heels?
She's already regretting it, you can tell.

Crap.
What?
Some of these people like dressed up as clowns and shit.
So?
So should WE have dressed up?
As what?
I don't know...like Howie's bald head or a suitcase or something..
They're not going to pick them just because they dressed up. They're gonna think they're sad.
Oo0000,..lookit that one...in the clown outfit.....
I feel bad for those pants.
That is one FAT clown.
Wait.
That's just how she's dressed.
oops

...
...
Where the fuck is the end of the line!?!?!?!

We FINALLY reached the end of the line and settled down for the day. It was 11:00 am and the line was moving along swimmingly. We thought, surely this will only be a five hour wait TOPS. No problem at all! We have snacks by god.

Then, the Deal Or No Deal town cryer and bearer of good news started walking down the line screaming....
"9 hours from this point..."

"10 hours from this point...."
(he screamed this about a mile from where we were).

By the time he got to our section..he joyfully screamed:
"13 HOURS FROM THIS POINT!"
I demanded to know what the fuck he was screaming about. (even though I kinda knew..but was already in full denial)
He smiled and said, "it's a 13 hour wait from where you are standing."
.
.
.
(mouth agape)
.
.
.
(drool)
.
.
.
(wipe drool)
.
I held down my left leg as its instant reaction to that comment was to kick him squaw in his baby makers. My mouth was dry. My brain struggled against the strong force of disbelief and my general math retardedness and attempted to process the information. After counting and recounting my fingers, (and finally asking Neen) we came to the grim realization that, if the overly chipper line guy was right, we would be standing in line until 1:00 am

Gulp.

We struggled yet again to be strong.
I opened up a cupcake, chewed slowly and put on my best Clint Eastwood squinty eye...


Tumbleweed rolls by.
"whadda whadda whaa.. wha wha whaaaaa..."
(that's suppose to be the clint eastwood western music..you know when he's about to kick someone's ass? Never mind.)


We were staying.
Surely this was a ploy to weed out the weak!

And sure enough.... a handful of weaklings left the line.

(Cue fighting music)
"WE WILL BE INVICINBLE!!!!"

Pat Benatar would have been proud of us.

TO BE CONTINUED....
(Stop screaming at me! I can't talk to you when you're like this! sniff...I'll post it tomorrow. I promise. I love you.)

Stay tuned for Part Two:
*Why am I holding this guy's cooler?
*A Free Pretzel!
*If that bitch doesn't stop yelling in my ear, I swear.....
*A Cowbell sighting
*Neen's crossword puzzle sickness.