The "B" Team

Scourge of The Fruit Loop: The "B" Team.


So we all have “our” bar, right? No matter the city, the neighborhood, the mode, we have our particular hang-out. Our ‘Cheers’. I don’t know about you, but I could give an A-mother-one fuck if they know my name, but I sure do love walking up to any Bartender in the joint and knowing that they’ll look at me lovingly (heh heh heh) and say:

“Scotch & Water?”

And I’ll say: “Why yes, thank you” and we will be civilized folk, the kind that tell fabulous stories at fabulous parties wearing fabulous clothes.

If you’ve ever noticed when either Norm or Cliff comes into the bar, no one is EVER in their spot. They just walk in and sit down. They have the benefit of a director making sure no errant extra is in their spot. In every day society, HOWEVER, it become a dance of power and grace, where the unworthy concede the coveted “sweet spot” seat that you normally have, giving you an eagle’s eye view of the bar. This isn’t done with posturing or attitude, that won’t get you anywhere at the poodle. Not very fast, anyway. It’s Brutal for a reason.

Now take Norm & Cliff and multiply times 4. That’s 8 if you’re from Missouri. 4 Norms and 4 Cliffs, all of whom have earned their right as Fruit Loopererati. When one of us walks in, we look instinctively for the other 7 to be within the comfy confines of the loop. We are enveloped by our own ilk and make merry, as it should be, and all is right with the world.

Every great once in a while, we’re met with a Fruit Loop Blockage. A “Bizzaro Loop.” “Diet Loop.” “I can’t believe it’s not Fruit Loop.” Those individuals that have banned together to rob us regulars of our position on high, locking themselves arm in arm so as not to waiver from their makeshift gauntlet. They take bathroom breaks one at a time, smoking only two or three hits off their smoke before hurrying back to the front lines, buttressing their siege.

Those that usurp the rightful owners of The Fruit Loop, are “The B Team”. It’s not their fault. If I were on the team I’d do the same thing. I do want the formula and the patent however, that when applied exudes enough Pomp & Circumstance on its own right that catapults the seat warmer from their temporary digs.

To date, I’ve only met one person that will move EVEN my great big fat black & white ass. There’s always somebody that outranks some body else. Don’t believe me? Well, you don’t have to.




Just say hi to Beulah for me won’t you?