Sunday night I was forced to go to Easter dinner with distant family. I haven't seen most of them for 10 years, so it is all hello oh nice to see you again, what are you up to these days, you look wider around the waist, your 
have sagged, etc. We're sitting around having a nice time, eating caramel eggs, drinking beer.
Soon after dinner is being served, it's not very good. I have my cellphone between my thighs texting blindly to my buddy for sports scores while maintaining eye contact with everyone at table and seeming very interested in what they have to say. I am nodding to this old woman telling me a story about how her daughter died tragically 10 years ago, but under the table I am texting "what the fukk is the score on the fukking Raptors game". He texts me back and I know that 2nd half is coming up quickly. I am on the right side but have a bad feeling so I want to try to hit a middle. I am sitting right in the fukking middle of the table, squeezed in with fatasses around me. I step over my uncle's lap and accidentally knock over his wine glass all over the table. I don't apologize, time is running out and I want to get there right as the line opens.
I run downstairs and find the computer but is this old piece of shit thing thats slow as fukk. I am cursing and sweating as it takes ages to even load the desktop. I am practicing typing my sportsbook's website before the browser opens so I am ready. Finally it opens and I get into my book so fast, I had hotkeys already prepared for everything. I see a nice middle, hit confirm, and the fukkin computer freezes!
We have all been here before... what to do... do you let it stand and hope it goes through, or try to abort and go back? I restart the computer, go through it all again, and find my bet did not go through. I try to make another one but it freezes again. Unfukkin real. I know by the time I restart the 3rd quarter will have started, so I kick a fukkin lamp over and go back up.
When I am back this old lady who I dont even know asks what I had to leave dinner for. I tell her I am a businessman and had to take care of some action. They say what kind of action there is on an Easter Sunday. I call her a square and eat my cold food.
I am still texting to get score updates. Score is going against me with each text as I curse under my breath. The stupid dog is under the table so I kick it to let out my frustration. I am turning red and ready to beat the shit out of anyone who harasses me. Same old lady asks me if I want dessert. I tell her "do you know how many fukkin desserts you already cost me during the course of this dinner, you old gray fukk?". Her husband stands up and says I cannot speak like that at the dinner table. I tell him to go fukk himself and to go buy a new computer when his old broad dies.
I knock over a bunch of shit on my way away from dinner table, pulling tablecloth off the table, kicking dog again, and kicking another lamp. I go to closet, take my mink, slam door shut and start my car. As I leave I make a sharp turn onto their curb, leaving skid marks on their lawn, and knocking over their mailbox, and screech off.
Boys never go to a family gathering when you have action on a game, it will eat you up inside making small talk when all you want to do is check sports scores. When you lose you can't even let out your frustration and when you win you can't do shit either. Family has got to be the gambler's worst nightmare. Wonder if I will get invited back next year though.
have sagged, etc. We're sitting around having a nice time, eating caramel eggs, drinking beer. Soon after dinner is being served, it's not very good. I have my cellphone between my thighs texting blindly to my buddy for sports scores while maintaining eye contact with everyone at table and seeming very interested in what they have to say. I am nodding to this old woman telling me a story about how her daughter died tragically 10 years ago, but under the table I am texting "what the fukk is the score on the fukking Raptors game". He texts me back and I know that 2nd half is coming up quickly. I am on the right side but have a bad feeling so I want to try to hit a middle. I am sitting right in the fukking middle of the table, squeezed in with fatasses around me. I step over my uncle's lap and accidentally knock over his wine glass all over the table. I don't apologize, time is running out and I want to get there right as the line opens.
I run downstairs and find the computer but is this old piece of shit thing thats slow as fukk. I am cursing and sweating as it takes ages to even load the desktop. I am practicing typing my sportsbook's website before the browser opens so I am ready. Finally it opens and I get into my book so fast, I had hotkeys already prepared for everything. I see a nice middle, hit confirm, and the fukkin computer freezes!
We have all been here before... what to do... do you let it stand and hope it goes through, or try to abort and go back? I restart the computer, go through it all again, and find my bet did not go through. I try to make another one but it freezes again. Unfukkin real. I know by the time I restart the 3rd quarter will have started, so I kick a fukkin lamp over and go back up.
When I am back this old lady who I dont even know asks what I had to leave dinner for. I tell her I am a businessman and had to take care of some action. They say what kind of action there is on an Easter Sunday. I call her a square and eat my cold food.
I am still texting to get score updates. Score is going against me with each text as I curse under my breath. The stupid dog is under the table so I kick it to let out my frustration. I am turning red and ready to beat the shit out of anyone who harasses me. Same old lady asks me if I want dessert. I tell her "do you know how many fukkin desserts you already cost me during the course of this dinner, you old gray fukk?". Her husband stands up and says I cannot speak like that at the dinner table. I tell him to go fukk himself and to go buy a new computer when his old broad dies.
I knock over a bunch of shit on my way away from dinner table, pulling tablecloth off the table, kicking dog again, and kicking another lamp. I go to closet, take my mink, slam door shut and start my car. As I leave I make a sharp turn onto their curb, leaving skid marks on their lawn, and knocking over their mailbox, and screech off.
Boys never go to a family gathering when you have action on a game, it will eat you up inside making small talk when all you want to do is check sports scores. When you lose you can't even let out your frustration and when you win you can't do shit either. Family has got to be the gambler's worst nightmare. Wonder if I will get invited back next year though.
