The Game is Beirut

With the Olympics looming large on the international sports stage it falls to the Khronicles to cover the lesser known 3rd Annual Beirut Tournament of Champions held at El Guapo Bar on Melrose Avenue in Los Angeles on the 21st of August 2004 A.D.

What is Beirut? Take a doubles ping pong game. Set up ten cups of beer on either side. Then take away the ping pong paddles. You take turns trying to plop your ping pong ball into all their beer cups... As you do, they must consume the beer. I'm not sure if the fact that ping pong balls are dropped like bombs has any relation to the game's name.

This year's organizers my sista-n-law, Kylie, and her roommate Lewis pulled out all the stops and expanded from their apartment to El Guapo Sports Bar. It was a packed scene by the time my crew and I rolled in around 10:30. There was a sea of testosterone charged guys cheering each other on and trash talking each other. Then there were the relaxed couples who, unlike the rowdy guys, were secure in the knowledge that they get to go home afterwards and have sex.* The estrogen was also represented well. But my question is, when did silk slips (that are essentially just underwear) become acceptable as outerwear? I'm cool with the concept of women in their underwear, but ladies, you should only flaunt it if you got something worth flaunting. Fortunately the VAST majority of the girls did. As a Khronicle staff writer I was obligated to follow a strict policy that no reporter may consume more than three jumbo margaritas unless somebody else is buying them for you. I adhered to the rules completely.

* my buddy "G" made this insightful, anthropological observation.

Here are some notable events I can remember about the evening:

1) After a few margaritas, I decided it would be a go idea to carve my friend G's number into the men's room wall using my car keys. It's 323-871-1057. He's quite friendly. Call any time of the day. Please don't disturb him after 11:30 PM Pacific Standard Time because that would just be rude on your part.

2) I began cheering like a adrenalized British football (soccer) hooligan in an attempt to crush demoralize sis-n-law Kylie's opponents. It was fun and initially quite effective, but despite my rally cries and obnoxious chanting, the guys beat team Barely Legal in a closely contested match.

3) I spotted a solitary, sober, young, black dude amidst this swarm of young drunken honkeys and decided to be the ambassador of good will. Tony and I talked about women, pro sports, and the scorekeeper chick that he had his eye on. After taking me into his confidence Tony explained how some girl was "saying she's seen that I be gettin' with too many ladies all the time." I told him that at the age of 24 that was his job. God has put you on this earth to be a Pussy Mercenary, but he insisted that he was looking to find a nice girl that he could trust and slow down his "playa ways." Having never been a true "playa" I can only imagine how difficult it must be to bring home different hot women every weekend and "smack their strange." (have sexual relations with them) I have Tony's number just in case any of you ladies are interested in a 6'3" well-built, polite, mild-mannered, attractive, friendly, settle down type. I convinced myself that I wasn't just another drunk asshole because I was furthering the noble cause of inter-racial harmony. MLK Jr. is one of my heroes and I think I he would have been proud that some scrawny ivory-assed white boy embraced his ebony brother. Although, I'm not sure if the late Reverend would have approved of some of the observations we made about the young women. I look forward to the day that there is a beer commercial on TV where there are black guys hitting on white girls and it's perfectly acceptable. Equal opportunity to tap the white girl ass. That is an America I'd be proud to live in.

4) I have never seen my wife, Penny so drunk in my entire life. It's easy to tell her level of intoxication, because the drunker she is the more frequently she feels compelled to inform me "I don't think I've been this drunk in a long time. I love you, honey." It was about every ten minutes. It may have been related to the fact that she had only one raspberry Nutri-grain bar for dinner and two margaritas and she weighs... I don't know. Not a lot. I can carry her and I'm just under average size. If you take that previous statement out of context you will be subject to a lawsuit for slander.

5) Some wasted guy grabbed my wife's ass. She wisely informed me of this later. But it was a friendly party and she's got a nice ass. If I was a single drunk guy, I might be tempted to do that myself. It's so much classier than some trite and over used pick up line. It makes a woman feel that she is indeed special to have her body singled out and get her buttocks squeezed by such a dashing suitor. Penny only has an engagement ring and two wedding bands on her ring finger. I thought that simple creatures were drawn to shiny things, not in this case. I'm trying to be open and progressive. I'm going to have to insist that my wife wear her birka and veil the next time we go to a Beirut Beer Tournament.

6) The guys who had custom shirts made for the occasion and wore mullet wigs helped elevate the event to more than just wasted idiots playing drinking games. They played for the glory of the game.

And Kylie, if you read this, you must have some kind of mug or stein as a trophy next year. And sorry I took Lewis' Polaroid and "went overboard" with the picture taking. I hope you'll have me back next year.

7) Somebody stole a cactus from the restaurant, but I as a journalist I can't reveal my source. Or where I put it in my garden.


8) My not drunk friend G was kind enough to drive us home. When we got home I had trouble in standing up straight in my "loosened state" yet somehow I managed to cook quesadillas. Penny and I passed out on the couch. Fortunately the sound of heavy snoring woke me and we relocated to our bed. The last thing Penny said was, "Oh, this is good bed." I'd like to take this opportunity to publicly thank G for seeing that my wife and I got home safely and soundly. If you'd like to thank him or ever find yourself in need of a responsible designated driver feel free to call the number. Once again it's (323) 871-1057.


Oh, and yeah, I'll post a picture that includes the guy who I suspect of making the ass grab on my wife. If you see him, kindly ask him to window shop in the future and not to man handle the high-end merchandise. I say. "No harm, no foul, no surprise visit from me and Tony late at night when you're least suspecting it. And I won't bring duct tape and a frozen hot dog.