Dar and I hit up a sports bar in Faneuil Hall to catch the Patriots/Steelers game, minding to our brewskies while discussing how tight end rookie Gronkowski was creaming the Pittsburgh defense. I portioned out my day for only one serving of insufferable convo - the obligatory debate on whether Brady's tresses look like Justin Bieber's. Nowhere in the dietary plan did I make room for our subsequent run in with Whipped Cream Freaky Deak.
It was the beginning of the 4th quarter and we had just begun looking ahead to next week's Indy game, planning our great escape to dinner before the discourse shifted to the amount of dandruff Brady's coif produces. But as we got up, a well known Deak Estate Developer and Car Deakership Owner who we know only in passing from frequenting The Tits (hotel bar where Old Senator Freaky Deak deaktacked a few weeks ago), arrive and barricade us in at the bar.
Some small talk is made for good Tits measure and we soon announce our dinner departure...to no avail. The Deaks slyly order each of us 2 more beers and 2 Patron shots, locking us into more deaktime and a soliloquy on how the aforementioned locks are stabilizing our QB's balance for improved throwing accuracy. We expedite the drinks down our throats and are more than locked and loaded to leave. The Deak Estate Developer is now sucking face with a woman who turns out to be his engaged assistant so the coast seems clear.
But as we thank them for our 8 drinks in 10 minutes, and likely save Deak from a sexual harassment lawsuit, they tell us they're coming with. We pull out every deakscuse in the book of deakdom but what can I say, it's a deaky world and we're just living in it.
Next thing you know Dar and I are sitting with Duos Deak at a swanky Waterfront eatery, having the ever so intellectually stimulating discussion on environmentally friendly shampoo. Things seem under deaktrol for the first 20 minutes but that doesn't sustain. Out of deak field the "harmless" Deak Estate Developer starts talking about "the things he is going to do to me after dinner" as he's been "peeled" to me all night. I ask him if he's confusing me with the betrothed deaka from earlier, trying to un-deak the focus from me. But soon thereafter, he asks our waitress for a can of whipped cream "for a nightcap," consequently emulsifying him into the Whipped Cream Freaky Deak.
It's now time for us to banana split.
