Back

So yeah, I went back to work on Monday. Goodness gracious, I couldn’t take another day sitting at home with crap on TV. At first I figured I’d sit at home the whole weekend recovering but after two days I was ready to get out. Get out and have some beers!

Since I was somewhat hobbled I had to monitor the drinking just a bit. For example, on Thursday I only had 16 beers compared to the usual 24. Quite an accomplishment if you ask me.

But after Thursday the knee started to feel better, and I started to get bolder. Before you knew it I was back to staggering home looking like the scarecrow from that “there’s no place like home” movie. I can’t remember the name of any movie that was redone in Technicolor.

By Sunday I was back in professional form for the noon Packer’s game. Oh, that was a good day. “In bed” by 8:00, good twelve hours of sleep. Nice.

The only thing that’s really new this week is that I’m driving Pop’s Grand Cherokee to work. The knee, while it’s doing well, isn’t well enough to push in the clutch on my car. At first I wasn’t really thrilled about this. I still remember the day back in 1996 that we picked it up brand new from the dealership. Now it has over 200,000 miles on it. So here I am, Pimp Master B, going from a Jeep Wrangler with under 20,000 miles and fat ass tires to some grandfather Grand Cherokee that’s seen better days. But you know what? It really ain’t all that bad. Back in 1996 dad had a Cadillac with the big V8 in it. Somehow dad’s 19 yr-old son convinced him that he should get the V8 in the Jeep since he was used to having one in the Cadillac. After three minutes of thought dad agreed, probably the biggest reason why the vehicle is still on the road today. And the fucker still has power. Not power like the FA gunning his V6 Mustang after watching The Fast and the Furious. We’re talking power like holy fuck I didn’t mean to do that power. The first day I drove it I put my foot down and was promptly planted in the back of the seat to the point where my fingers were barely touching the wheel (seat all the way back with the knee). Today it’s Tuesday and I’m starting to get the hang of it. In the Wrangler I used to feel every bump. Hell, I knew every bump on the way to/from work and would avoid them. Pop’s Grand Cherokee glides over everything with a dull thud. But along with this comes another evil: speeding. I swear that car will not do anything less than 40 miles an hour. With my car I know how fast I’m going without even looking at the speedometer. Third gear with this much gas and this much engine noise is 30 miles per hour. You just get used to it with a stick. But with the automatic and the V8, fuck, I think I spend more time checking the speed than I do watching the road (kind of like a woman only it’s the speedometer and not the makeup mirror – aka rear view mirror). I’m getting the hang of it and hopefully by this weekend I’ll be able to drive mine again. I’ve been flexing my knee in preparation for it; flexing my knee at the corner bar while watching football. It’s amazing how much I can bend it after a pitcher or two.