It’s McDaniel’s, not McDonald’s. These rhymes are Darrell’s, but the burgers are Ronald’s

First time I’ve used Run-DMC lyrics to title a blog post.

Yesterday I did an early brunch at McGuinness, then ran by Big Foot to give my BFF her birthday present.  Over the past week she had heard from several people that I had got her something really nice.  So I decided to have a little fun.  Saturday night I told her friend Brittney what I had got her, knowing that Brittney has a big mouth and would probably tell her.  So yesterday I came into Big Foot and handed my BFF a gift box:

My BFF opened the box, and this is what she found inside:

Yep, after hearing about this great gift all week, she finally got it and it turned out to be a gift certificate for a free sandwich at McDonald’s.  Am I the best BFF ever or what?  It expires May 10, so she has a full two weeks to cash it in.  I helpfully took out a piece of paper and drew a picture of a McRib sandwich, so she could have an idea of what she could get with the gift certificate.

Then I ordered a beer.  My BFF entered my name in the computer as “WORST BFF EVE.”  (There wasn’t enough room for the final “R.”)  She then proceeded to call and text everyone she knew to tell them what I had given her.  I sat there for about an hour and let her enjoy her new gift.  Here’s a pic of my BFF contemplating whether to get a Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder with Cheese:

Finally I couldn’t take it anymore… “Let me see the gift box for a minute, I want to take a picture of it for my blog,” I told her.  She handed it back to me.  I waited for her to turn her back to me to ring up someone’s order, then switched out the McDonald’s gift certificate with her REAL present – a gift card for a Pure Fiji Pedicure from Gould’s Salon.  I handed it back to her, and continued to drink my beer.  After about 15 minutes I realized she was too dumb to figure out that I had switched presents, so I pulled the McDonald’s card out of my pocket and laid it right there in front of me.  Finally she saw the McDonald’s card, realized it wasn’t in the gift box, and checked to see what was in there.  “Aw, Paul, that was sweet,” she said.  “I take back almost all of the mean things I’ve ever said about you.”

Here’s a description of the Pure Fiji Pedicure that I found on the web:  “It begins by pampering the feet with a ritual coconut milk cleansing.  This is followed by an exfoliation of natural alpha hydroxy in a pure cane sugar, infused with essential oils, enzymes and coconut oil.  A body butter wrap is applied to the feet, while legs are massaged with luxurious body butter.  Your choice of color is applied to nails.”  Damn that sounds like a complete waste of money, but girls like that stuff for some reason.

My BFF kept the McDonald’s gift card too.  I’m sure she’ll be showing it to all her friends and talking about it for days to come.  Damn, I was actually kinda hoping to get the McDonald’s gift card back.  I haven’t had a Big Mac in months.

I had planned to go to Wine Race, but it was raining hard so I ordered a second beer.  I asked my BFF for ideas on who else I could invite to be a part of my BBQ team.  “Why don’t you ask Chad?” she said.  Funny thing is, Chad and his mom had been in the restaurant about an hour before, and Chad was WEARING THE BBQ TEAM’S SHIRT.  Most people would’ve figured out that he was already on the team, but not my BFF.  What a genius.

I made myself a toy out of about 8 drink straws all strung together.  My BFF took it and threw it away.  I stood up in my chair and leaned over to look for it, but I didn’t have good balance and fell backward to the floor.  My BFF got a good laugh out of that.  But then she said something very interesting – “I had a dream last week that you fell.”  So my BFF has dreams about me… INTERESTING.  Not surprising, but interesting.  I bet if I mailed that chick who writes the dream analysis column in the Memphis Flyer, she’d point out the symbology of the dream – my BFF wants me to “fall” for her.

Her roommate Magan called.  This is the girl I referred to in Saturday’s “Magan needs to buy me a drink” post, but I misspelled her name.  Who the hell names their kid Magan?  That sounds like a brand of washing machines.  And what was up with people who became new parents 1985-87 naming their kid Megan, Meghan or some variation of that?  I’ve met several just in the past few months.  Is it really that great a name?

So anyway, Magan wanted to come down and hang out and my BFF said, “Paul, go pick Magan up.”  Keep in mind that I was on my third beer – my third 34 oz. Big Foot Beer – at that point.  And my BFF, the bartender serving me the beer, suggested that I get in a car and drive.  Yeah that’s not a liability issue or anything.  I pointed out that if I drove and had a wreck, she could be held responsible.  “No I couldn’t,” said my BFF.  You’d think they would’ve covered this in the weeks of training she received, but I guess not.

So Magan found someone else to drive her to Big Foot.  Here’s a pic of my BFF and Magan:

So my BFF and Magan talked about Saturday night, when they all celebrated my BFF’s birthday at the Red Rooster.  Damn!  I wish I hadn’t had that Hurricane at Pat O’s and got too drunk to stay out… if I had kept going the Rooster likely would’ve been my next stop.  “My mom was there,” my BFF told me.  “My mom’s hot.  She’s 42 and looks exactly like me, but older.”  I commented that it’s too bad I wasn’t there – I could’ve got her mom drunk and hooked up with her.  Heh… that would be so funny.  I could turn her mom into a cougar.  Then Mom would start hanging out at the bar at Spindini.  “I would be so mad,” said my BFF.  (Translation: “I would be insanely jealous”)

After three beers, I decided I was ready for a change, so I taught my BFF how to make duck farts.  She actually did a very good job – when made right they taste like chocolate milk.  So Sleep Out Louie’s alumni once again have a place Downtown where they can get the signature SOL drink.  My BFF told me she had a 34 oz. Mind Eraser for her birthday.  I don’t think there was much of a mind there to erase to begin with.

My BFF told me that Big Foot is planning to open a second location, in Southaven.  I wonder if they’ll have a different menu at that restaurant, in order to serve dishes Southaven residents are used to eating.  Like possum, for example.

About 4:30 I tabbed out and headed to Beale Street, having missed Wine Race entirely.  Details of the rest of Sunday will have to wait til later, as it’s almost time for me to head to work.  Also coming today (if I have time to post):  A new menu at the Majestic Grille, and a poetry slam.