don’t be a jerk

The subtitle of this entry will be:
 
Sometimes I am a strapping 29 year old man. And sometimes I am a fussy, pregnant woman.
 
Today I went to Costco with my pops to pick him out a new computer since his old one is getting a bit long in the tooth. My “consultation fee” for this service was the privilege of slipping a few personal items in with the purchase, mostly shit that I’d find too extravagant to purchase on my own dime. In this case, this amounted to a few steaks, a case of “Beers of the
World“, an entire can of crab meat, a tray of fake sushi, two large jars of pimento olives, and a whole shitload of contact lens care products.
 
We go back to my dad’s place and I work on his computers while he cooks up a few steaks for the both of us. It doesn’t take him long to get the steaks nice and medium rare, and we eat em with the platter of fake sushi. Somewhere along the way I start in on one of the big jars of olives. i don’t know why. It was a weird craving. They went really well with the sushi.
 
By the end of the meal, my dad’s barking at me to lay off the olives, and I realize that I’ve eaten like 15 of them. Goddam. I close the jar and get back to the computers.
 
For the rest of the evening, I’m walking back and forth across the room between the two computers and every time I pass the jar of olives, I pop one in my mouth. By the time I’m done with the computers a few hours later, my dad’s barking at me again to quit eating olives.
 
I pack up and head home with my contact lens shit and crab meat and olives and wotnot, and the whole car ride home, I’m swerving all over the freeway cause I’m continually unscrewing and screwing the lid back on the jar of olives cause I’m eating them the entire car ride home.
 
I get back to my apartment a little past midnight, and I’m not tired cause, shit, I don’t sleep this early on weeknights - why should I on Saturday? I settle in with a good book (Stephen King’s Wolves of the
Calla) and decide that I feel like a drink. Beers of the Wor - ooh! Wait! Is that a bottle of vodka? I decide to make a martini. Cause then I can put an olive in it!
 
I actually don’t like straight martinis that much. My favorite part is the olive, mostly cause it’s fun, but also cause it tastes good when it’s soaked in gin or vodka. Then the light bulb goes off in my head. Why not make a martini, with, like, 6 or 7 olives in it!?!
 
I basically pour myself a cup of vodka, dump of bunch of olives in it, and start chowing away (seriously, they were pretty good!) after I’m done. I’m left with a briney cup of vodka, which I really don’t feel like drinking. So I toss another handful of olives in and eat those too, and when I’m done, I toss the vodka down the sink. At this point, there are only a few olives left in the jar. I guess I must have eaten a good 60-70 over the course of the evening.
 
That’s my story. If you’re looking for a moral or something, you ain’t gonna find it here. I’m really thirsty right now.