Monday, January 12, 2009

Pub Chugga Chugga Choo Choo: A Modest Beginning

If you've ever taken the Metra all over the Chicagoland area, you'd know that nearly every single stop is accompanied by a bar. Years ago, after sharp surveillance, Drunk Dave said to MSM one day, "We need to just like, you know, fuckin' just go to like, all of 'em," and then he swept his hand for emphasis, knocked over his beer, and ordered a round of Rumplemintz for everyone who witnessed the faux pas.

MSM is a little gossip queen, and the following Sunday morning we were drinking at Orazio's, and she told a Smith Sister and I about Drunk Dave's plan.

"Well, we have to do this," I said. "I don't think we have a choice."

"I'm pretty sure this is the greatest idea ever, except for that one time you made beer cubes," the Smith Sister pointed out.

"Yes," I solemnly agreed, "My beer cubes were a huge success." I took a sip of my drink and pondered. "What should we call it?"

MSM lit a cigarette. "We don't have to call it anything, we just have to go to a bar, drink, get on the train, drink, get off the train, go to a bar, drink, and repeat until we can't see anymore."

"No, we have to call it something. I like Naming Things."

Within moments, we were silent and gazing upwards in contemplation, until the Smith Sister broke the silence. "Wait. Okay, I got it. What sound do trains make?"

I did the best train horn I'm capable of replicating, but I'm no Michael Winslow.

"Well, yeah," Smith Sister humored me. "But I was thinking more like, 'chooooo choooooo'."

So I did more train sounds, because I was all stuck on calling it a train sound and then giving it a symbol, like Prince.

"No, like, chugga chugga chooo chooo-" Smith Sister corrected me.

"I think I can, I think I can, I think I can, I think I can--"

They both ignored me, and MSM turned to the Smith Sister. "Oh-oh-oh...and what do you do with beer?"

"Chug it."

I "WAIT! I know! Choose life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family, a big fucking television. Choose the best fucking train crawl ever."

"Ross, we don't need to go too abstract here."

"Bu you know? From Trains-"

"Shut up, yes, I know. Focus. Think."


After like, fifteen more tries they got me to stop quoting movies about trains and describing my love for Shining Time Station and we settled on a name.

The word has spread, and what began as a fifteen person pub crawl has since escalated into a forty-person extravaganza of excellence. Any man that gets left behind? Stays behind.


Next one's in May. Everyone is invited.



Anonymous said...

Maybe it's just me, but I think Pubspotting was an excellent suggestion.

(My verification word is "carrefu" which makes me thinking of someone drunk-texting the world "careful" - how appropriate.)

renalfailure said...

My best drinking days may be way behind me, but I could use an excuse to visit Chicago (I got a couple friends from college living there now).

Anonymous said...

Oh my god if this were six years ago I would have FLOWN there from 6,000 miles away to join you.

I did a pub crawl only once in London. At the end you got a T-Shirt. Maybe you should print up some of your own.

Anonymous said...

Once upon a time I could chug a pitcher. Yeah.

Kitty said...

Woohoo chugga chugga choo choo!

I like Pubspotting. Drunken train riding sounds like the best birthday celebration in history of ever.

paperback reader said...

How many drinks does it take you to think you're Michael Winslow?

Anonymous said...

Trains scare me. I don't know why. Do you think I can get my passport by May?

Rassles said...

Eli: So do I, in retrospect. But probably because I've got Danny Boyle on the brain, just like the rest of the country.

RF: Don't say silly things like "drinking days may be way behind me" and crap like that, because I just don't buy it. Unless you're all wagon-bound or whatever. Hey, and if you come, bring Tag Larkin.

Duck: I am so glad your blogging hiatus is over. We were thinking about t-shirts, but the idea was to just get mens' undershirts and a crapload of sharpees and making our own as the crawl progressed.

Franklin: I can't anymore, either. Chugging was easier in college, and I pretty much avoid it now. It's expensive.

Kitty: I'm so glad you recognize the glory of it all--I drank a shot of whiskey for you, since we share birthdays and all.

Pistols: By that time, listed among things I've lost are the following: muscle control, common decency, articulation, count of how many drinks I've consumed.

Ginny: Trains are the best way to travel, man. Love trains. And, on top of that, don't those only take like, sixty days? Or is that just in my superior country?

Anonymous said...

You underestimate my laziness.

American in Sydney said...

Pubspotting would be an excellent activity in Sydney too with the awesome transport system here-- maybe you should come visit?

Rassles said...

Ginny: Boo, you whore.

Flora: Australia is totally on my list of countries to visit. It's next, actually. But that means cash. So lame.

The Ambiguous Blob said...

This sounds like one of the best nights EVER.
Also, I love Rumplemintz and shoot it like it's my j-O-b.

Rassles said...

I think half the fun is trying to pronounce the name by the time it's over. It's like a tongue twister, made that must twistier by Rumpelmintz.

~Mountain Lover~ said...

I'm in need of a train. And nubile 20-somethings. The closest I have is a light rail that takes you to park-n-rides and my 30-something gay pals.

Send me some inspiration and I'll sent you some of Colorado's finest microbrews... just sayin'