Yesterday, I blogged about some schmoe getting his panties in a bunch about me being a lame asshole (or something like that). As long-time readers of this blog know, I'm down with that.
While working the bar at The Spro today, I receive a call from Christine. She's returning from a multi-week trip to Manila and needs advice on where to go for ramen - in Honolulu.
Truth be told, I can take being called a lame asshole or dickhead. It bothers me not that some people don't find our vision of coffee to fit their own. And I'm perfectly happy with others hating on me because I don't share their enthusiasm for the barista competitions (or not bathing)...
But, if you're one of my friends and you call me to tell me that you're sunning it up in Honolulu, I'm crushed and ready to curl into a fetal ball in the corner of the room. As I told Christine: "I could have multi-million dollar stores, a house in the country and women half my age on my arm and you still will have beaten me by being in Honolulu."
No amount of being called a lame asshole is worse than calling me from Honolulu...
- BTW, I sent her to Goma Ichi Ramen, 631 Keeaumoku Street, Honolulu, Hawaii 96816, 808-951-6666.
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