It started out just fine. Gaston and I went to a local pub to discuss the draft, and about the possibility of Gainey signing Mats Sundin. We both know there’s a cap problem involved, and the Habs still have to sign Andrei Kostitsyn, and also have to make a final decision about players like Mark Streit, Mathieu Dandenault, Patrice Brisebois, and even underachiever Michael Ryder.
So we ordered beer and natchos, as you can see in the photo, and we both were having a lovely time. Gaston feels Alex Tanguay, with his experience, will be a big help to the team, and we agreed that Bob Gainey is on the right track with a fine and exciting team combined of young stars like the Kostitsyn brothers and Chris Higgins, grit with Tom Kostopoulos, Steve Begin, and Mike Komisarek, and a handful of veterans like Koivu, Kovalev, Tanguay, and maybe even Mats Sundin.
All was well until I went to the bathroom. Because when I came back, only minutes later, Gaston had completely made a pig of himself by eating the whole plate of natchos, and chug-a-lugging his pint of beer.
And not only that, he was passed out on the table, the waitress was upset, and so was I.
Here’s what I mean. Is the guy an asshole or what?