Lisa better run for the hills

So we hit one of our Top 5 favorite bars of all time last night. It's on the list because we always get a seat at the bar, they pour a very nice Black and Blue, and their sandwich, the Dublin Chicken, makes us very, very happy. But we digress.

We walk in and *no one* is there. Well, folks are there, but just not a lot of them. This kind of makes us happier than the chicken sandwich makes us. So we sit down, order our food and drink, and start watching the Yankee thrashing (losing 9-0 in the sixth against the Devil Rays? Oof).

Then we notice that everyone at the bar is a gentleman. "Huh," we think to ourselves. "Maybe it's Gay Night."

"... And that's the thing about those gays," we hear the man two guys down from us say, loudly, to his friend. "It's unnatural. Think about it. Does God really want men to be f*cking other men? I don't think so."

The man certainly had our attention. So we listened for the next 18 minutes as he drunkenly made point after misguided point.

"I think it's a disease."

"They just need some counseling."

"It's not right, gays."

"What it be OK for you to f*ck a dog?"

Now, we listen/people watch at bars all the damn time. We like to think we're really good at it. In this case, we wanted to join the discussion or beat this idiot with a stick (or our junk), but we couldn't think of the best way. As we sat there, we came up with several different approaches we could use.

1. "Say, do you really hate gays so much or are you just really, really repressed and you really, really want to nibble on a man thigh?"

2. "Hey, please shut the f*ck up with your nonsense. (We're) trying to watch the ballgame."

3. "You know what (we) could go for right now? A nice, big, fat, c*ck."

4. "Excuse me. (We're) straight. But after listening to you, (we) think we might want to try this evil homosexuality just to see if it clicks. Men do smell nice and some of them have really, really nice abs. Wow. Now that (we) think about it, we'd f*ck T.R. Knight or Doogie. They both have such great eyes, you know?"

5. "Is it really a disease or is it simply a choice? Are 'the gays' really hurting you when you think about it? Are they? God, you make (us) want to curb you like Edward Norton Jr. in that movie."

When he went to the bathroom, we actually thought about following him and coming on to him, just to see if he'd be game.

When he came back, he mentioned camping. But he didn't think Laurie and Lisa should come along -- no, he thought the best experience would be he and his friend, in the wilderness. Together.

He also said he joined a private gun club.

"Ask me how many times I've gone?" he said.

"None," we muttered, taking a bite of our scrumptious but slightly overcooked chicken.

"Two," his friend said.

"NONE!" gay-gun club camper said. "Can you believe that?"

"Yes," we muttered, somewhat audibly.

"No," his friend said. "We'd you join, then?"

"So I can SHOOT sh*t!" he said. "When my dad died, he left me his gun collection. So I have all of his ammo and I like to shoot it."

"What types of guns?" his friend said.

"Oh man, there's too many to name. One of them is a .44 magnum, though. I'm like John Wayne with it. We should go to the gun club sometime. It'd be real fun."

"Let's go tomorrow," his friend said.

"Oh. I can't. Lisa and I have that picnic. But we'll go soon."

Still shocked by the loud diatribe against the gays, we watched as the two pals paid their bill and decided where to go next.

"Where are you parked?" douchebag said. "Why don't we just go for a walk while we figure out where to hit next?"