Zach Hates You

Today I was out zipping around Seattle with a friend in nice sunny weather having a great time.  When she asked if she could get dropped off around the Westlake Mall I asked her if she was serious.

Downtown Seattle.

430pm.

Really?

Getting there wasn’t that bad.  There was one Metro driver that wasn’t happy with the fact that while pulled over, I snuck the bike into the space next to him.  I don’t care how big you’re vehicial is.  I’ll win.  Not that the driver saw me glaring at him through my very dark tinted windscreen, he decided that it was better to just let me in front of him.  He chose wisely and gets to continue living. Good for him!

So dropping my little punk of a friend off at the mall.  No big deal.  Now it’s time for me to head back home.  Still south of Beltown’s now fucked up roads due to construction, I figured 2nd Ave wouldn’t be too much of a hassle.

Wrong.

It took me 30 mins to go 5 blocks.  That was doing all the illegal things I possible could do while on my bike aside from riding on the sidewalks.  Even with SPD directing traffic the whole place was madness.  All I could do was watch as my poor, hot motorcycle’s temp gauge continued to rise.  Normally it hovers at around 187.  While stuck in traffic it neared 210.  Poor, poor SV.  So not being able to take it anymore, I shot up to Capitol Hill thinking it was a better bet then trying to get to SoDo.  It wasn’t the best, but I’m sure it was better then anything else.  Guess what kiddies?  It’s PRIDE weekend! That’s great, I’m really happy that you’re happy about being gay.  Be as gay as you want.  I’m OK with it.  Really.

NOW POST SIGNS BEFORE YOU CLOSE DOWN MAIN FUCKING ROADS ON A FRIDAY AFTERNOON.

When I am a rich man, I’ll have a motorcycle armed to the teeth ready to blow away traffic enabling me to zip through the still burning carnage.  When that day comes, I’ll be a happy Zach.  Still full of hate, just more of a sadistic glee.

He's nowhere near as pretty as me

OK.  I get it.  I look like Jay Buhner.  You can stop now.  I hate baseball.  There are worse sports out there that I hate even more, but I don’t like sports in general.  Sure, I enjoy MMA, but my like of sports pretty much stops there.  OK, I’ll watch some ladies beach volleyball, but I mean come on, that’s for reasons other then the sport.

When I was growing up, I shaved my head.  We laughed about going to “Buhner Buzz Night” where fans that showed up willing to buzz their hair or already with a shaved down head would get in for free.  This was a time we’ll call “pre-beard Zach.”   While I was in the Army with a shaved head, there were a couple of people that commented on my likness to the man.  It didn’t happen too often and it’s not like the guy was Hitler so I didn’t think much of it.

Fast forward 7 years or so and I have a decently sized red beard and a mohawk, I work across the street from where the Mariners play, and Mr. Buhner is no longer on the field.  I heard one guy say I look like him.  Just one.  One fat man.  Sure, it’s happened every so often no big deal.

And then I shaved my head once more.

All week, “Hey look, it’s Jay Buhner!” “Do you know who you look like?” “Wow, you look like you could be Jay’s twin!”

Fuck you all very much.  I almost snapped yesterday.  I went from work near the stadium where a group of annoying drunks kept calling me “Jay” to the Irish bar I also work at to find them again.  I was nearing the point where I wanted to kick them out of my first bar for being fucksticks, but they left soon enough.  Then, there they are…still drinking at my other bar.  The sad part of this is I don’t think they realized that I was the same person that was shooting them death glares for an hour across the bar.  Fucking drunks.

So Mr Buhner, I have a favor to ask of you.  Please go back in time and please do one (or more) of these three things:

1.  Don’t shave your head.  I know that bald is beautiful , but maybe go with a crew cut or something.  No shaved head, no mohawks.

2.  “The Bone” minus the nicely trimmed beard will still be a badass.  I’ve heard that ladies like guys without beards.

3.  (This one would be the one I would pick)  Don’t be a famous baseball player that makes a  buncha money for playing a sport.  Granted, I know that baseball players do work a lot.  There are a shit ton of games in a season and about half of those are on the road.  Man, that sure must suck.  You know what would be easier?  Not doing it.  So instead of baseball, you could be an apartment manager or be a train engineer.  Then once I become famous from this marvelous blog, people would come up to you and say, “Hey, you know you who look like?”

To be honest, I don’t hate the guy.  There is no way that I hate a man who stars in very funny commercials and an amazing fact from teh wikis, “He was also known throughout baseball for his ability to vomit on command.”  That’s pretty damn impressive and I admit a bit of jealousy there.  Well played sir.  Well played.

I hate all the damn fans that walk up to me to tell me something that has come up for years.  You people and your stupid jerseys with someone else’s name on them.  Even worse are the jerseys that have “Fan” as a name.  You can’t even pick someone at random to put on your jersey to keep you from looking like a moron?  The people they put their own last names on their shirt are even worse.  You are a fat middle aged cubical jockey.  You will never play any sport professional.  Enjoy your $8 bottles of crap beer and your nasty garlic fries idiots.