The boys had had their bachelor party fun in the exotic and remote location of North Beach and before it got too late, and the thousand beers could take hold, they thought it best to continue the session close to home. Because they were in North Beach where parking is sparse – not because they were responsible people back in the day – they all took cabs down there and needed cabs back. Twenty plus guys staggered down to Columbus, waved down a few, piled in, and pointed the confused cabbies in the direction of the Sunset.
Tim and Terry O’Brien’s cab ride was fairly uneventful, but they did manage to chuck a few verbal barbs at the hapless cabbie before they jumped out. Soon they made it back to Ridley’s, and by the looks of it they were the first group to make it. They went in, grabbed a few beers and chatted up the folks that were there. Within a few minutes, the door flew open and in came Rod Kruke, who was in another cab venturing back from North Beach . Kruke is always well-dressed. He often wore pressed, creased jeans and some type of layered collard shirt combo under a leather jacket. The guy looked like he walked straight out of a 1950s Flatbush men’s catalog. The only thing more legendary than his wardrobe is his one-upsmanship; That is the ability to take any story or situation one is telling and respond with an even more outrageous story. Kruke scanned the room and marched right to the boys. Tim started to recount their cab ride story when Kruke cut him off with his own, surely better story. The boys’ eyes rolled as the one-upsman leaned in.
“We were giving our cab driver so much shit and he was getting all pissed off. We pulled in front of the bar as we were getting out and paying Sully gave the driver a wet willy [lick finger, insert in ear] and he freaked out. He stepped on the gas and took off, dragging me behind the car for a half a block until I fell off. I think I got run over! I looked up and Sully was dangling off the driver-side door with one arm crooked into the open window for support while the other arm was repeatedly punching through the open window and into the cabbies face, trying to get him to stop the car. The car turned the corner and I lost them!”
The one-upsman strikes again.
The boys looked at each other with that “oh-sure-thats-what-happened” look. When he got no reaction, Kruke shrugged, knowing the boys would never believe him. As he walked away, Tim pointed at Kruke’s back and Terry looked over to see a tire mark stretching from Kruke’s calf and all the way up his back and over his shoulder. Kruke walked up to another group of guys to recount the story to try to get someone to believe him.
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