A Drunk Run-In with The Bus
Back when Mark Wahlberg was Marky Mark, we used to go to one of Pittsburgh’s biggest dives on the Southside. Who am I kidding? I still do! Anyways, on this particular night we were hitting up the dollar draft specials. As was our usual plan, we would get severely blacked out, taking every advantage of the cheap drinks before midnight.
Once the clock struck twelve, I rounded up the troops. Our coordinates on this fine evening had us heading one short block down the street. We marched in to what seemed to be our after party. The door flung open and we made our presence felt on the dance floor.
This wasn’t just any dance club in the Southside; this was a church at one time. Nothing could be more sacrilegious than mutilating your body, especially your liver in a former place of worship. The basement had been successfully converted into a disco themed dance floor, complete with a full service bar.
Between throwing bows and slamming even more cocktails, we all got nice and sauced. Pittsburgh was still in party mode after it had collected its 5th SuperBowl, only a week prior. To add to the festivities on this evening, a special guest made a surprise appearance. It was none other than now retired, running back for the Steelers. The BUS, Jerome Bettis!
Still continuing to obliterate my liver, I had begun eyeing up The Bus for a potential confrontation. Keep in mind that the great Sergio was a lowly sophomore and couldn’t help but to be star-struck by this Pittsburgh sports icon. And I’m sure the booze also played a role in this.
Dancing had lost its fun, and I had begun my assent on The Bus. Slide right by a few Yinzers to offer Jerome a firm handshake…
With my hand extended … “Hey Bus, Keep rumbling, bumbling, stumbling, your way to the end zone!”
Not only did I not obtain a handshake, I received one of the blankest stares as he showed me the cold shoulder. Somewhat hurt, I shrugged it off and decided my liver would bare the brunt of this confrontation gone wrong! Fuck my liver.
