Like a Man

By EJ Pritch

Most books want to inspire happiness or self-help on how to become a millionaire even though you work part-time at some crappy grocery store that claims its organic. Im looking at you, Whole Foods. Not this book as Im trying to spread the word of hate. I represent all of the angry people out there who look at life in a bit of a twisted and cynical way.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Mar 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9781524684297

EJ Pritch

E-86. You know you have something special when you’re friends give you a nickname that references all the times you’ve gotten kicked out of bars. My name is EJ and I love scoring hole and pounding brew (like a man). My two favorite pastimes have inspired me to put pen to paper and share my hilariously terrible stories with the world because not all heroes wear capes. And not all heroes wear rubbers as you’ll soon find out. Most people would think that growing up in a broken home in West Miami would automatically pave the way for great life choices. In reality, it was the underage drinking and abundance of horny Latina girls that was my recipe for success. Fast forward 10 years and here I am living in San Diego. I decided to put on my big boy pants and get myself a real career in hotel management. No more partying with strange women on weekend trips to Tijuana, no more running from the police, no more reckless decisions that lead to a bloody nose and missing wallet and no more unprotected sex with questionably young girls. It’s time to grow up and be responsible. Ok, but first I’LL DO ONE!

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© 2017 EJ Pritch. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 03/15/2017

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8430-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8428-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-5246-8429-7 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017904025

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Introduction

A Day in the Park

TJ

Second Time is the Charm

Angels from Heaven

Catch me if you can

Two is Better than One

Pooper Scooper

Airbnb

Milky Tits

Moving Day

The Engagment

Jazz Fest

The Layover

TJ 2.0

The Interview

Introduction

We the people

Most books want to inspire happiness or self-help on how to become a millionaire even though you work part time at some crappy grocery store that claims it organic. I’m looking at you Whole Foods. Not this book, I’m trying to spread the word of hate. I represent all of the angry people out there who look at life in a bit of a twisted and cynical way.

I represent you; Middle aged guy who is a skilled craftsman at his profession who has to answer to that runty kid half his age who just got out of college and his dad knows just enough people to grab him this gig. Yea, sure, you might be a bit of an alcoholic with an online gambling problem, but damn it I don’t want to live in a world where you don’t exist.

I represent you; Guy who drives 90’s pickup truck with non-working AC. I know how hot it gets on a summer day in New Orleans. I know the frustration of when all you want to do is light that ciggy after a long day of work and hit the 7-11 for a tall boy before heading home, but you can’t quite do that because there’s traffic. And it’s raining and your stuck choosing between getting soaked while lighting that ciggy or closing the window and taking that heat as if it was a torture chamber. You bet your ass you crack that window a bit and light that fucking cigarette and crank the radio.

I represent you; Overweight chick, who always gets overlooked by her male co-worker when inviting people out for drinks after work. Yea sure, he’s a bit of a douche but even bigger for not inviting you out. Instead, he invites the cute blonde Ashley from accounting. Little does he know, she has a thing for black guys and never gets drunk at bars. But you, you pound beer like a champ while bellying up for some street fries. Did I mention you don’t expect him to pay the bill and would most likely offer a hand-job in the company parking lot? He’ll never know you use moisturizer just for this very moment.

I represent you; College kid who has it tough in college and thinks the world is out to get them…. Actually I don’t represent you. Get your act together and become one of these other people I represent.

I represent you; Forty-year-old divorcee. Yeah, it’s a weekend, and you were looking forward to watching the game in peace while taking a hit of the bowl in your one bedroom apartment. But it’s your weekend and the fact you can make that ex-wife of yours drive twenty minutes out of her way on a Friday makes it all the worth it. Until she meets you with her new younger Latin boyfriend in his leased BMW and they are talking about restaurants you’ve never heard of in a language that is almost unrecognizable.

I represent you; Old racist man drinking Busch cans on your porch. The world came at you fast and you should have sold that house years ago when the market hit its peak. Now you’re stuck watching a bunch of fake smiles running around your neighborhood like a little maze. But now you have grandkids, and God knows you’re not moving in with your daughter and her second husband and his two kids. Plus, in confidence, you do like to watch some late night infomercials every once in a while with some baby wipes next to your recliner. So you keep the house and watch the world around you drift. But when that day comes and your neighbor comes up to your porch and that empty beer can is sitting next to you and they ask Sir, were starting a clean project in the neighborhood and would love to help you recycle your cans you simply reply, fuck off

All in all, I represent you the people who look at this world and really think to yourself, how the hell have I made it this far with all of these idiots around me. Fear not my confidant, we are here. So the next time you get stuck behind some simpleton in an SUV in the right lane of a red light and that genius pulls out slowly and makes the right when the light turns green. Know that you are not alone in wanting to kill them.

Angry lives matter

A Day in the Park

I fucked Philip Rivers today…

Day started simple enough, going to watch the Dolphins play in San Diego on a November day. I had been a San Diego resident for almost a year and born and raised in Miami for most of my adolescence. If you know anything about these two cities you understand football is not at the forefront and this should be a pretty typical Sunday afternoon game with no thrills. Something was in the air though, we had finally reached November and football was still important to me. I could write a book all in itself about being a Dolphin’s fan and how that contributes to alcoholism, domestic problems along with an overall feeling of disappointment and letdown. They’re the reason why I never truly believe a woman is interested or if this is some game to get me to buy into at the end of the day just give it to me, and I mean give it to me real good. Enough about that, this is in the past, today’s Dolphins are different, I think. They had started the year off rough, and at the beginning of October I had given up hope. But then some kid named Jay Ajayi had stepped up and was that woman who was leading me on. He had run for huge numbers over the course of the month and we had won our last three games and now football mattered in mid-November. All I could really ask for. I had a purpose today, I was going to get my mother fucking drinking on, something that I have become accustomed too.

Called my buddy Kevin. Actually Kevin is my employee, as an on-call bartender with a pretty shitty work performance but he’s a sports fan and usually drives when there’s movement involved so he’s game for the adventure. I Uber over to his place and make our way to the game. We decide to grab some drinks and food before heading out. We stopped at local spot called Luche that he enjoys. I’ll be honest, it’s a bit too cute for my liking but hey, I need a buzz before hitting the stadium for a rowdy tailgate so I coincide. As I’m making my way through the yuppies and yoga wearing mimosa drinkers, I’m thinking, throw a couple back and get the fuck out of here. I do have a dirty secret though, it was a damn good breakfast burger. With egg white dripping down my face and bacon poking out of my beard, I thought to myself, maybe the domesticated animals that are San Diegoins have it right.

Kev and I split the bill before heading to a nearby liquor store to pick up some brew for the game. As were shuffling through the isle, he finally finds the beer he’s looking for, Ballast Point. If you know anything about beer, you realize this is the king of craft beer. I on the other hand find a sixer of tall boy PBRs. I try and explain to him it’s because I enjoy the taste and want a light beer as we’ll be drinking all day. Truth is, I’m a cheap little Jew who tries to save a buck any way he can. Two minute drive down the street and we arrive at the trolley that will drop us off at the game. For the first time I see signs of life, there are Dolphins fans everywhere.

As the trolley makes stop after stop, I continue noticing more Dolphins fans than Chargers fans. This is a first, I think to myself. I start to feel some pride and pump the chest out a bit. I’m getting anxious as I’m ready to get of this damn train or whatever it’s called and crack a beer can for the world to hear, I have arrived!

This is the first time I had ever been to this stadium and to say I was underwhelmed would be an understatement to say the least. I have been to some shitholes in my day, but this joke of a stadium lacked it all, except some pretty cute fans which I was kind of expecting being that it was Miami and San Diego fans, not quiet Cleveland and Pittsburg. No offense to Cleveland….. Actually fuck you Cleveland, your woman are ugly and your city sucks. I can say that without consequence as I’m confident most people in The Land, as they call it, can’t read anyway. Surely scalping a ticket couldn’t be too difficult a task. The brews were open and we were looking for some Fins fans to belly up with at their tailgate and hopefully use our beer as leverage for a burger or some wings, and then, of course, drink their beer once we run out. But this was all a façade as Kev and I walked around unsure of ourselves as we tried to throw in a, hey there and shitty joke here while looking for an opening or sign of weakness. Nothing!!!

Just when confidence was fading and the drunkfest was working its way into full effect, there was a shimmer of hope. I pointed up to my buddy a flag high in the air. Almost majestic I swear, a beautiful- flowing Dolphins flag flying high in the sky. I insisted that we go because I knew it was the base. If this was a zombie movie, this would be where a group of bad ass, zombie-killing motherfuckers would call home while saving the poor helpless other lone survivors out there and training them in the ways of a warrior. Or it could be closer to the movie This is the End in the scene where Channing Tatum is on a leash and is ready to suck on Danny Mcbride’s cock. Either way we didn’t have much to lose so we made our way down there.

Much like the day so far, the end of the rainbow was underwhelming, a single Toyota Camry with a father and son posted up in front. Not entirely what I was hoping, not even a truck, a damn Camry. If this wasn’t the life of a middle-aged football fan at its finest, I don’t know what is. But there was a grill with smoke coming out, so all hope wasn’t lost. After some small talk and predictions for the game we got to the serious stuff. I uttered the words, no man can resist. You want a beer bro? He was a willing participant and we now had an ally. It was a seamless transition as he offered some dogs from the grill. It seemed so smooth, I might have even figured out political practice. I could offer my services to the Middle East to stop wars. Just offer those fuckers with the towels on their head a cold one. The guy seemed gracious enough that a couple young lads were talking to him and making him look good In front of his kid. His wife might even get sex tonight! The laughs continued and the plans for total Dolphin domination and upcoming playoffs went on for about an hour. After looking down at my iPhone for the time, I realized oh fuck, the game is about to start in 15 minutes. We still needed tickets so we parted ways with our new friends and thanked them. There was some actual sincerity in there as well.

If you know anything about sporting events, you know the art of scalping tickets. Don’t be a fag and pay what the seller is asking, if you learn nothing else, take that to your next AA meeting. For a game that doesn’t have a lot of hype, the scalpers are few and far in between. The need tickets remark gets looked at with blank stares. I ask Kevin, what the fuck is wrong with these people? I guess the scalper way was a little too off-brand for them as they’re used to buying them at full price online months before the event. Finally, I hear a response, I got a ticket. It’s a cute chick with a powder blue Philip Rivers Jersey on. Spunky little brunette, who seemed to have had one too many in her already. In reality, my type of girl. Where was she during our tailgating adventures, but that’s not the point right now, we’re talking business. What do you got I ask one ticket she says. I look up to Kev and explain how that’s no fucking help but he ensures me we just need one and we’ll pick up another one. So after no negotiating at all, I pay with a twenty spot. I know what you’re thinking, Evan, you just said you never pay full price. This is different though, she was cute and it was a good price for the ticket. Don’t judge me you Jew, you’re the one reading the book, asshole. So my girl explains to me that the ticket is in her section and I would be sitting next to her and her friends. This day might have just taken a turn for the better. Baby girl gives me a kiss on the cheek and a wink and says she hopes to see me up there.

That’s all fun and games but I need to transition though if I want to get into this game because we’re still one ticket short. After another five minutes of walking and in all honesty, giving us more time to pound our beer, we see hope. Blacks!! Now in most cases, this is not the crowd you want to walk up on, but in a San Diego stadium setting, if they’re not playing on the field, they’re either selling tickets or drugs. It’s the middle of the afternoon and I’m off tomorrow so I’m okay with later actually as well. We approach the gentleman on the corner and ask if he’s got tickets. Of course he’s got tickets. This time, we are going to use those negotiating skills and see who cracks first. My buddy Kev tells him he needs one ticket. This is tough as usually scalpers sell in sets of pairs. Our friend, let’s just call him Jerome, shows us a pretty good field pass ticket. He’s asking under face value, as he should. I might have said it once or twice before but it is the Dolphins and Chargers playing for God sake. He agrees after we threaten to go elsewhere and obliges for fifty bucks. That’s an early win under our belt.

Everything is great, we just got the one up on this guy but that still doesn’t fix how were going to sit next to each other and if I’m going to get a chance with that cute chick who sold me the ticket and who’s name I never got. To think of it, I never got her number either. The good thing about going to the game with someone who’s been there before is their sense of composure. Kevin never seemed worried. He mentioned that he looked at the tickets that were for sale and they were all together. Being as that he only sold one to us, the rest of the seats should be empty.

When trying to enter the stadium, I had decided to go back to the old book of tricks. I grew up on sneaking your beer in. Nine bucks a pop for a beer is a going to take a toll on your pocket and leave you cringing the next morning when you check the bank account. Anyway, usually at the entrance, there is a kid in his early 20s who doesn’t want to be there with a metal detector checking everyone. Usually, this gentleman can be a little sloppy with his technique leaving room for error on his part and twenty dollars saved on your part. After some quick searching, I found my bitch. A tall lanky kid in his late teens, possibly from an URBAN community, looking restless as the crowd piled back thirty deep. He was trying to get them moving so he could end his shift and go back and finish playing his second season of franchise mode on Madden in his room while his mom gives him shit about getting his life together.

I eventually make it to the front of the line and I’m intercepted by an individual in a polo shirt who directs the rest of the crowd to the nearby line. Not the person I wanted to see, an older woman, straight out of Golden Girls. She smiles at me and instructs me to come forward. The metal detectors start by going up and down the side. So far, so good I’m thinking, Beer is in the back pocket and this sweet Brandon Marshall jersey is covering the rest. Then the old hag hits me in the back and the detector goes off making the sound informing her and the crowd behind me of my defeat. She asks me to lift the jersey and the evidence is written all over my face. I have failed you PBR, go and run free and find some other tool to enjoy you in the parking lot. Actually I just threw it away but I’m trying to paint a picture here.

I suggest going to the upper deck to go party with my girl, Kevin has other ideas. He explains we need to at least check