dear life, so much has happened, and other short stories

So G's cousin N was in town briefly over this weekend. N is very tall and hates facebook. N told us a story about a cougar. N was also very nice. To celebrate N's spring awakening in NYC, we decided to go out Friday night.

As G and I descended the stairs (not an easy feat for someone like me who tends to find stairs intimidating and difficult to maneuver), your humble narrator, true to form, slipped on a Delicatessen (did I spell that right?) brochure and almost bit it down a couple of flights. Delicatessen is the fancy new place around the corner from us, and I don't really understand why they're littering our landings with pieces of paper for no reason, seeing as how it's a hazard AND how they're packed over capacity every effing day.

I looked up and saw this large man, mayonnaise all over his relatively hairy face, smirking. Not really laughing, but smirking. And yeah, granted, it's funny when someone falls like that, but that son of a bitch was just chilling on the landing, eating some huge hero (I thought it was a burger at first), and didn't even think to ask if I was ok? Or to pick up the piece of paper? Are you a human being at all? Christ.

Ok, so I'm exaggerating a bit. But he was crushing that sub. And he did have the majority of the sandwich's condiments all over his face. So I turned around and said what was most appropriate.

"Sir, I can't believe you left this propaganda on the stairway! It's dangerous."

He looked perplexed, like maybe I wasn't talking to him. And yes I'm aware that deeming that menu to be propaganda's a stretch, but it just made it sound all the more awesome.

G bit into him too, accusing him of purposely laying out a ton of Delicatessen pamphlets everywhere and then waiting and watching with his sandwich. I mean, we were just playing, but our story that we created on the spot just developed its own life force as we crafted it. Poor guy just stood there, laughing and eating and shaking his head.
"Sir you better go collect the rest of these papers; they are a hot mess," I directed.

Then, I noticed that there was water dripping all over the stairs and a huge pile of ice in the corner of the landing. So I blamed that on him too. Poor guy was so lost.

Me: "And you dumped ice? On the landing? Dude...we gotta talk about this..."
Dude eating sandwich: "Rrmmmmf fmmmmmmf?"
Me: "Honestly?"

So G and I just continued to barrage him with complaints as we traipsed down the rest of the stairs. None of them mean, just generally disapproving of his sandwich-eating, ice-dumping, pamphlet-strewing ways. I called him Mr. BadBurger, even though it wasn't a burger he was eating. You know that Kenan and Kel show, or part of show, that used to come on? And they had that spinoff horror of a movie, "Goodburger" where the tagline was "Welcome to Goodburger, can I interest you in a good burger," etc.? Everything about that show and that skit was just terrifying, just like this creepy man in the landing, dogging a sandwich and watching ice just melt, and generally acting socially irresponsible.

If I own a restaurant, I'm going to have a BadBurger on the menu that is not going to be a burger at all, but a hero, and that's why it's a bad burger.

SONGS I LIKE NOW:
"Seventeen" - The Black Lips
"Losing All Control" - Rooney
"Waiting for My Real Life to Begin" - Colin Hay
"Don't Hate Me" - The Get Up Kids
"Ces Soirées-la" - Chansons du Soleil
"Crack a Bottle" - Eminem f. Dr. Dre