96 Grams Of Awesome

I think we've played in Little Rock, Arkansas at the Whitewater Tavern probably four times in the past year. It's got everything one could ever want in a bar: really cheap booze, really good food, really absurd decorations (a real canoe hanging from the ceiling, a poster-sized photo of a naked man playing an accordian), really wacky regular patrons (overheard: "A corndog! None of those fuckers got me in 'Nam, but I come home and almost die on a corndog!! A corndog!!!), and free wireless internet.

The bar is managed by an extremely nice guy named Matt, who lets us sleep at his house whenever we are in town. His roommates include "Sweet" Jane (a bartender at Whitewater), and Michael.

Michael and I were in a coffee shop on Tuesday when he revealed that he had to be at work at 9am the next morning for a meeting with his bosses at U.S. Pizza, a restaurant in town.

"I'm kind of worried. I really don't know if they're going to fire me or promote me."

Why would they fire you?

"Well, a couple reasons. They told me to take off the Obama button I was wearing, and I told them 'That's fucking ridiculous,' and it happened to be in front of a customer. Then I made a little sign."

A sign? What?

"Well, there's this big flat screen TV in our dining room, and there's a camera in the restaurant's arcade. So the TV just shows the arcade, so parents in the dining room can watch their kids while the kids are playing in the arcade."

Ok.

"And it's total bullshit because the house dressing that we serve has 96 grams of fat in a 6-ounce serving. So everyone thinks they're being healthy, when they're really just getting heart disease."

Ok.

"So I made a sign that just had the facts. 'Our house dressing has 96 grams of fat in a 6-ounce serving.' And I hung it up in the arcade so that the TV in the dining room showed the sign all day."

The next morning, in the pouring rain, I drove Michael to his meeting. They handed Michael a write-up of his offenses ("Michael was wearing a button that a guest found offensive. Michael said 'FUCK' in front of guest") and fired him. They asked him why he made the sign. He told them that "people have a right to be informed." They then asked him to put his signature on the paper. Michael responded, "Well, I will sign this, but can I please record the fact that what I actually said was 'This is fucking ridiculous.' ? We live in a postmodern society where the truth is important."

All of this lifted Michael to heroic status among me and all of our friends in Little Rock. But the best part by far was that Michael spent the rest of the day making jokes about his new unemployed status. "Hey Michael, do you want to go get lunch with us?" I just got fired, and you want to talk about lunch??? Really?? Lunch?? I've just been fired. ......."Hey Michael, did you listen to that Arcade Fire album?" I've just been fired from my job and you want to talk about the Arcade Fire?? Really?? I can't discuss music right now. ........."Michael, have you thought about trying to collect unemployment pay?" Seriously?? A man gets fired today, and you want to ask him whether or not he's going to collect unemployment? You dick, have some god-damned sympathy.

Michael rules. The only question I have is what made him think that the meeting could possibly have been about him getting promoted, but I guess I can ask him in January when we go back to Little Rock.