Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Really Really Retro Douche

This story was told to me by my grandmother, and it was told to her by her mother. It took place in the late 40s/early 50s, by best estimates. It's about her father, an Irish immigrant who owned a bar in Queens, NY. Well, one night after he closed up shop, he and a few friends decided to hang around at the bar for a bit and have a couple of drinks. One of my great-grandfather's friends apparently got really smashed. I'll give you the rest in my grandmother's words:

"My father's friend Mickey got pretty cockeyed and I guess he decided to go have a good shit for himself. Well, he fell asleep sitting on the toilet, and so my father and his friends ... (at this point she laughs hysterically for about 3 minutes, composes herself, and continues) they painted his wiggy green!"

What a proud family legacy. Someday I'll be able to tell my children what a pioneer of weekend douchedom their great-great-grandfather really was.

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