Mullet Night 2013

“Those guys skipped bowling tonight to make sure they could be here for this.” – Biguns

The 108ers have a deep, rich history of attending games together and when you hang out with the same crew year in and year out attending events together, especially “special” events, peculiar occurrences can happen.  This is one of dem.

Friday, June 28, 2013 – White Sox vs. Indians

This mullet night began much like previous mullet nights before it that the 108ers attended together, with ice cold brews going down easy, some great conversation….ooh and a White Sox game going on in the background.  I could tell though, very early in this night that something else was adrift.

For those that don’t know wtf “Mullet Night” is exactly, it is a promotional event at Sox Park that features people sporting REAL, but mostly NOT REAL mullets for the evening.  The event is usually sponsored by some low-rent hair cutting chain.  In this instance it was sponsored by Great Clips.  The fine folks from Great Clips position themselves at various spots throughout the first level of the concourse and will cut hair for donations to a specified charity.  It is fun!!  Obviously, the authentic mullets are much more fun than the mullet wigs, although to each their own.  The opening quote of this post is a Mullet Night in the past, when the crew was having a ball watching a gentleman who was really getting into his new found status because of his beautiful and natural flowing “business up front and party in the back” hair cut.  I wish I had a picture of that mutherfucker, cupping an ear and listening to the crowd like he was a professional wrestler at a championship bout.  He was something…..anywho, I think you get the jist of this now, its FUCKING FUN!  Now back to the night in question.

The 108ers, at least in this era, would sit mainly in a 2 x 2 formation, with Slumpbuster and yours truly in the #1 seats (Slumpbuster in front of the BeefLoaf) and Biguns and Chorizy each in the #2 hole respectively.  That’s not a euphemism, they were literally in the #2 seats.  Anyhow, early on in the game, I could tell that Slumpbuster was a little more poignant and measured than usual, he had something on his mind.  To get a feel for Slumpbuster, he’s a salesman by trade, but he’s pretty much talking, fist bumping and clapping from soup to nuts at a ball game.  He’s not one to allow a moment of silence to rest, so for him to be a little more measured, did sort of create a tension…..then he hit me.

“Hey BeefLoaf, I’ll pay $200 to get a mullet shaved into your head.“

*Record scratch*

Inner Monologue – Lots of dares and bets and other bullshit do actually occur amongst our friends.  Not just our 108 friends but in the larger group of friends.  As someone (along with Chorizy) who has had portions of my life were I have made a good chunk of my living betting on stuff, there are a couple of things you need to figure out in a situation like this…..

1. How difficult is the task to accomplish?

Getting a mullet cut is pretty fucking easy, in principle.  I do however have a wife and child….OH and my in-laws are in town and we are planning to go out to dinner the next night.  This moves the task from no-brainer to reasonably easy, but with a few obstacles.

2. How likely am I to get paid?

Slumpbuster may be a lot of things, but he ain’t welching on a thing like this.  100% chance of payment is what I was thinking.  But wait!  Slumpbuster is the deepest pocketed of the original 108ers.  He has a good job, plus, he has no family.

After weighing the two main issues, I decided that A) I needed to clear this with Mrs. BeefLoaf, or at a minimum let her know it is coming before pictures of me end up all over Facebook and Twitter with a mullet and she’s at home with her folks thinking WTF?  B) I think I can get more than $200 out of Slumpbuster.  This man is on a mission to have me do the dance for him in front of (we had like a dozen people out at this game with us) a crowd.  He wants to be the MC, and I his main performer…..so

I respond to Slumpbuster “Let me think about it.” to that he immediately retorts..”$300″.

Inner Monologue II – I’ve got him!  I know there is more than $300 there, so I push him off again and realize I need to talk to Mrs. BeefLoaf ASAP so I know I can play this charade and get this shit done.

I respond to Slumpbuster  “Let me think about it.  Let’s just watch the game for now.”

He has to know that I am at least mildly interested, since I didn’t back down immediately.  I finish my beer and we order another round.  I find a reason to excuse myself from my seat (bathroom or whatever) and I go up to the concourse and call Mrs. BeefLoaf.  The phone conversation with Mrs. BeefLoaf is why I have an awesome wife and pretty much nobody is in a position to dispute it.  I call, tell her the lowdown and there are two main tenets that come away from the conversation.  #1 Mrs. BeefLoaf dgaf if I get a mullet or not, she basically said, she dunt care if I get it for no money.  #2 Mrs. BeefLoaf tells me I can get AT LEAST $500 out of Slumpbuster.  Atta girl.  Practical and a stone cold killer all at once.

The game continues and we are in about the 5th inning by now, beers have been flowing, everyone is feeling good. bullshitting and laughing.  Slumpbuster finally turns around and comes over the top of his original two offers and says….”BeefLoaf, $500″.  I SNAP CALL.  “Let’s go!!”.  Everyone in the crew turns around as I pop up and start strolling up the concourse.  The herd follows.  Slumpbuster and I lead the crew, as we go directly to the conveniently located Great Clips station right above Section 107.  I wait for a chair to open up and I plop down on it.  The young lady looks at me and I look back and instruct her.  “I want you to give me a mullet and this gentleman here will take care of the donation.”  She gives a little grin, as if she has been waiting all fucking night to cut some dumbass’ hair into a gigantic drunken mistake.  Slumpbuster grabs a couple of twenty dollar bills and throws down a healthy donation considering the circumstance (he’s an EXTREMELY generous dude, so this surprises nobody).   The young lady gets to work on my hair.  As she does, the 108ers and their friends start snapping pictures.  Before I know it, mufuckas we dont even know are snapping pictures as a crowd is starting to gather around us.  The young lady cutting my hair is getting towards the end of the cut.  I can tell A LOT of hair is on the ground and that the top is pretty short as are the sides.  Then she turns to Slumpbuster (as by this point she knows he’s really in charge of this situation) and asks him something that I was not expecting.  “Do we want lines?”

Inner Monologue III – LINES?  I don’t want any fucking LINES cut into my head.  I’m going to look like an idiot.  Also, I have to work on Monday and I can get the rest of this bullshit cut into shape, but if they cut lines into my head, I can’t do shit.  I’ll be the dumbass at work, with LINES cut into their head.  AH FUCK!!!

Slumpbuster gives me a look and a classic devious Slumpbuster smile and turns back to the hairdresser and says “Oh yea, we want lines.”   It was rare to see such devious joy pouring out of this dude.  I can hear the clippers getting in there nice and tight and giving me lines, but it’s too late to fight it.  I’m going to have lines and there is nothing I can do about it.  I stand up, once the cut is completely done.  Thank the hairdresser and start walking towards my seat.  The group dissipates and just as soon as it had started, minutes later, my thick mane of hair was cut down into an NWI special (no offense to my brothers and sisters in the NWI, this is an inside joke).  Slumpbuster lobbed me $200 that minute and vowed to pay me the rest the next game we went to together (which he did).

So there you have it, the next time you happen to be talking to someone about Mullet Night, you can say, “Hey, I know some dumbass who got a mullet ON MULLET NIGHT!”  and it won’t be a lie.

PS – I did go to the bar that night after getting a mullet cut in my head, because when you #108ing, you just keep on #108ing until it’s time to stop