JERK OF THE WEEK: Jerks of the Jersey Shore 2013, Part 1: The Drowning Fat Man
Countless thousands suffered when Hurricane Sandy decimated the northeast part of this country. It was awful. For instance, I lost power in my home for about 24 hours. I had to stay at my parents' house for the night, and they have three dogs, so I barely slept. Even worse, upon returning to home, I discovered that the milk and orange juice had gone bad in the refrigerator. Do you know how taxing it was to drive to the local Wawa and pick up some milk and orange juice? Do you!?
It's difficult to believe, but the Jersey Shore actually had it way worse. People lost their homes and businesses due to massive amounts of flooding. I imagine that they would trade places with me in a heartbeat - but only if their milk and orange juice also expired in their unpowered fridge.
Upon hearing the Jersey Shore was wrecked, I instantly thought of three things that would really bother me if all of the great beach towns were obliterated:
1. Will Snooki be OK?
Not so much Snooki; but Snooki's baby. As you may have heard, Snooki recently had a child with some rapper named Kanye West. What would become of this infant in the event of a hurricane?
Well... who cares? First of all, that child is going to be locked in a psychiatric ward by the time he/she is 18, so does it really matter? And second, everyone knows that Snooki hibernates underground during the autumn and winter, so unless she forgot her child above the surface, chances are it'll be OK.
Now, on to my real No. 1...
1. Was Prep's Pizza destroyed?
My sister texted me, "Is Prep's Pizza OK? I don't think I can live if Prep's Pizza is destroyed." I couldn't either. Prep's makes great pizza - by far the best in Ocean City - and life would be extremely difficult without it.
2. What will happen to all of the hot chicks?
Tens of thousands of hot chicks flock to the Jersey Shore each year. They strut around in their short shorts, tiny skirts and microscopic bikinis. They are a gift from the gods. But what will they do if they can't go to the Jersey Shore? Will they get bored and eat ice cream all day? If so, they'll become extremely fat and unattractive, and thus would become a gift from Satan. Satan is a dick, so we don't need him ruining everything for horny males everywhere.
3. How will I write my Jerks of Jersey Shore entries?
Back in the summer of 2011, I released my Jerks of the Jersey Shore series. It was a four-parter that discussed all of the idiots down in Ocean City. I had a fun time writing it, and I was hoping to bring it back again. I didn't go to the Jersey Shore in 2012 because I used up all of my vacation time flying out to Colorado and meeting Awesome Girl Who Loves Football, who would eventually become my (currently former) girlfriend. However, I wanted to make amends in 2013. There are tons of jerks at the Jersey Shore, and it's my job to expose them.
I checked the weather for a nice couple of days and found a Monday and a Tuesday (July 29, 30) that were perfect - mid 80s with no chance of rain. I called the hotel I stayed at last time and reserved a room...
The Atlantic City Expressway:
I don't have one of these new, fancy-shmancy cars with built-in GPSes, so my parents bought me a Garmin a couple of years ago. I had never opened it because I always knew where I was driving to, but I thought I'd bust it out and use it to find my hotel.
Learning how to use the Garmin machine was frustrating at first. It came with two cords - one for the power cable in the car, and one to connect to the computer. I figured I'd charge it with the latter rather than going all the way down to my garage. After about 15 minutes, I unplugged it and turned it on. It flashed for eight seconds and then powered down. Way to build an awesome battery, Garmin a**holes.
I had no choice but to descend into my garage. I plugged in my Garmin, and it powered on instantly. I then entered the hotel address and it calculated the time and distance... 13 hours and 800 miles. What!? From Philly to the Jersey Shore?
Apparently, what happened was that Garmin thought I was on Michigan Ave. in Illinois for some reason. It took about 15 minutes, but it finally realized that I was right outside of Philadelphia. Confident it would work, I powered it down and went to bed. I then packed my bags Monday morning and drove off to the Jersey Shore.
When I reached I-95, Garmin told me to take Exit 30. The problem was that I printed out directions as a precaution, and it said that I had to take Exit 19. So, which was it? Exit 30 or 19? Exit 19 or 30? I shifted into panic mode and nearly rammed other drivers off the highway as a result. Exit 30 was quickly approaching, and I didn't know what the hell to do!
Luckily, the gods decided for me. Well, maybe not the gods as much as the a**hole construction workers who always feel the need to rebuild highways that aren't anywhere close to being broken. Exit 30 was closed, so I just sped by it. The Garmin woman sounded like she had a seizure when she said "recalllllcuuuuulaaaaatiiing." She then told me to stay on I-95 for two more miles, and then proceed onto I-95. I could feel her brain melting as I drove.
I eventually took Exit 19, upon which the Garmin woman finally agreed with my printed directions. I proceeded onto the Atlantic City Expressway and was told to stay on it for 38 miles. It was a nice, relaxing ride with barely any traffic - until I hit the tolls. They asked for $3. It wasn't a big deal, but I never understood the point of tolls. Aren't toll booths maintained by state and/or local taxes? Why do they need extra money? To do needless and annoying construction? To hire douche bag traffic cops who hand out tickets to people going 70 in a 65-mph zone? This whole thing is a scam, yet no one does anything about it.
I paid my $3 to the fat woman/Satan's gift in the toll booth and sped off. About 15 miles later... another toll booth!? This one asked for $1.50.
I was seriously pissed off, and my anger only intensified when I saw that there were only two lanes: one for E-ZPass and one for "coins only" that had to be thrown into a machine. Umm... what about just regular cash? Is the Atlantic City Expressway so strapped for money that it can't afford to hire someone to collect tolls? And what if a driver doesn't have $1.50 in change? That's an awful lot of change. What if they only have two quarters and no E-ZPass? Can they not proceed through the tolls? Do they have to turn around and head back? But U-turns aren't allowed, so are they stuck there forever?
I rummaged around in my car for change. I found four quarters... then a bunch of pennies. I threw those back and fished out a dime... hmm... and then another dime... the car behind me honked because I wasn't moving, but what was I supposed to do? I was driving solo and had no idea these Atlantic City Expressway a**holes were going to ask for a mortgage payment in exact change.
I finally secured a third time and four nickels. Huzzah, I had $1.50 in change in my hand! I opened the window and tossed all 11 coins at the machine at the same time. Huge mistake. My left hand was sticky from being in the humidity and holding the steering wheel the whole time, so only two coins were shot out accurately. The other nine fell to the ground.
"MOTHERF***ER!!!" I shouted. The driver behind me honked again, and I gave him the middle finger.
Rather than looking like a complete fool and opening my car door for the coins, I scoured for some more change. I located a nickel and chucked it at the machine. I then found another nickel. I threw it in as well. A penny? Why the hell not? Soon enough, I was firing nickels and pennies into the machine at a rapid rate, all while the car behind me continued to honk.
I must have flung in 90 cents in change when the prompter read, "Thanks for your payment!" Really? There was no way in hell I reached $1.50 with nickels and pennies, but I wasn't about to continue firing coins into the machine. I sped off and flipped the bird at the driver behind me one last time.
Harris House Pool:
I arrived at my hotel, the Harris House, shortly afterward. I checked in and then went to my car to grab my luggage. I wondered if I should chill by the pool or go to the beach first, but I quickly had my answer when I saw this skinny blonde in a white bikini jump into the water. Pool it is!
I hurried up to my room and got changed quickly. I then went down to the pool and positioned myself across from the skinny blonde, right next to these three, weird Russian women wearing turbans. Unfortunately, the skinny blonde had a friend with her - a fat chick. And this fat friend seemed way more into me than the skinny blonde. The fat friend constantly stared at me. At one point, I think she licked her lips. Did she want to pleasure me orally or eat me? Perhaps both?
I took out my phone to write down some notes for Jerks of the Week. Fat Friend saw this and laughed. Skinny Blonde did as well. I can only imagine what they were saying...
Skinny Blonde: I'm like so hot, I don't know what to do with myself.
Fat Friend: NOM NOM NOM, ME WANT TO EAT GUY OVER YONDER BUT NOW ME WANT TO EAT HIS PHONE TOO NOM NOM NOM.
Skinny Blonde: Haha, what kind of a phone is that? A hot chick like me would never sleep with a guy who owns a phone like that!
Fat Friend: GOOD GOOD, ME WANT EAT.
Skinny Blonde: Hey, can you move to the other side of the pool? You're blocking the sun. Thanks!
Skinny Blonde left about 10 minutes later, to my chagrin. Fortunately, there were suddenly two other hot chicks there: a blonde wearing a pink bikini, reading a book and a cute girl with auburnish hair and a colorful bikini. They were sitting in opposite directions from me, so I didn't know which one to creepily stare at. It was quite the dilemma.
I was getting quite hot, so I decided to take a dip in the pool. I was hesitant to do so at first because there were so many damn kids in there. I hate kids. They bring nothing but disease and misery. I used to like kids when I was a kid myself, obviously. When I was a teen, being a mentor to kids seemed kind of cool. When I entered my mid-20s, however, I started to realize how truly annoying they are. And now? Disease and misery. Can you blame me, given that I'm a Nittany Lion alumnus? I haven't trusted kids ever since they conspired to frame Joe Paterno and destroy Penn State football. What do you mean, "Revisionist history?" There's no revision!
The pool felt nice. Because Cute Colorful Bikini Girl was with parents, I sat on the same side as Book Reader, who was by herself, hoping she'd go into the water so I could strike up a conversation with her. Waiting for this to happen proved to be difficult. There were four black kids in the pool, all of whom inadvertently splashed me. This white woman, whom they referred to as "mommy," told them to stop, but it was to no avail. They were poorly behaved and continued to splash, interrupting my efforts to creepily stare at Book Reader.
Now, I know what you're thinking. This woman obviously drove to the ghetto, kidnapped four black kids and adopted them as her children, right? Well, that's what I thought too until this fat, black guy rolled out to the pool and kissed this woman. So, you see, she not only kidnapped the children; she found a way to abduct the fat man as well.
There were other annoying kids there too. Two brothers, one about 9 and the other around 5, ran to the pool as soon as their overweight mom put her bags down. Both were scampering toward the deep end, and there weren't any lifeguards on duty to stop this. I was looking forward to the result: The 5-year-old would obviously drown, allowing natural selection to run its course. It was like watching a lion eat a zebra. It was just nature taking place right before my very eyes. It was beautiful.
Unfortunately, the fat mom realized what was going on before the 5-year-old could plunge to his death. She shouted, "Connor! Connor!" and picked him up at the last second. He cried as a result. This made me very upset, as I realized this Connor douche bag will undoubtedly plan to ruin Penn State football in about half a decade. I was even more disgruntled when I saw that Book Reader packed up and headed back to her room.
Only one hot chick left. I had to make this count.
I swam to the other side of the pool and immediately noticed that an obese man wearing a Philadelphia Eagles t-shirt entered the area. He walked around the pool once and then bent over, huffing and puffing. He then rolled into the pool and ventured toward the deep end.
I spent some time creepily staring at Cute Colorful Bikini Girl, but she was never alone. Then, suddenly, WHACK! The eldest of the four black children jumped into the pool and hit me in the process. I was about to pepper him with some Riley Cooper expletives, but he said something interesting to mommy/kidnapper:
"Mommy! Mommy! There's a dead guy in the pool!"
The mommy/kidnapper dismissed this, responding, "Don't say anything like that!" but I suddenly noticed that I had not seen the obese man emerge from the deep end. Was he that tired that he couldn't swim to the surface after sinking to the bottom of the pool? I thought about looking, but why bother? Natural selection, after all.
There were people in the pool who didn't annoy me, but still acted very strangely. For instance, Connor's dad, a fat guy with a lisp, asked his 9-year-old son a question:
Fat Dad: Hey Alexthander, Alexthander, ith thith the thame color ath Kayla'th pool?
Alexander: What, dad?
Fat Dad: Thith pool? Thith pool? Ith it the thame color ath Kayla'th pool?
Alexander: I think so.
Fat Dad: Honey, thith pool ith the thame ath Kayla'th pool.
Fat Mom: You mean Kaylee's pool?
Fat Dad: Yeth, Kaylee'th pool. The water ith gonna bother Alexthander'th eyeth.
I shook my head in disgust at Fat Dad, and he seemed to notice. What the hell is up his questions? Color of the water? Water doesn't have a freaking color. Pools are all blue because of the white light reflecting off the bottom of the pool. Sorry for looking at you like you're a complete idiot, but you can't have just noticed that all pools are blue.
I had enough of these stupid kids and dumber adults. I had to abandon all hope of gaming Cute Colorful Bikini Girl because I couldn't take it anymore. She was still with her family, so I didn't have much of a chance anyway. My only hope was that she would see what number my hotel room was. She could then knock on my door at night and have her way with me.
I thought this was a realistic scenario, but it didn't come to fruition, unfortunately. The good news, however, is that there were thousands of other hot chicks just waiting to be creepily stared at in the wonderful town of Ocean City. I'll have stories about them next week.