here is my goo story. before reading it though, remember that i don't
intend to offend ANYONE with this story, especially the goos. the
characters in the story may not be true to the goos real personalities,
but it is just a story and it's meant to be fun. so keep a sense of
humor and if you don't like it, please no hate mail. just delete and
forget about it. thanks.
~mary
We Don’t Know No Goo Goo Doll
written by: mary jorissen
“Hey Johnny, you almost ready?” Robby asks as he pokes his head in
through John’s door. Without turning away from the mirror John
continues to fiddle with his hair.
“Does this outfit match ok rob?” he asks, finally getting his hair to
stay where he wants it. Robby walks completely in the room and laughs.
“I can’t believe my best friend is a 33 year old Goo Goo Doll that
can’t match his clothes,” Robby says as he looks at John’s reflection
in the mirror. John was wearing a blue long-sleeved shirt and green
cargo pants.
“Yeah you look fine. What time are the reservations for again?”
“ Seven-thirty at Sushi Mushu,” John mutters, sitting on the edge of
the bed and pulling on somewhat beat-up black leather boots. He stands
and looks at Robby, who is currently struggling to reload his Donald
Duck Pez dispenser. Robby is wearing black pants, a bright green
button-up shirt, and a black zip-up jacket. His red-maroon hair hung in
his eyes and he pushed it back to see the last Pez slide into place
under Donald’s head.
John shakes his head and smiles. “How the fuck did we ever end up
together?” he laughs.
Robby jerks his head up and looks back at John. “I don’t know man. I
guess it’s just like they say, opposites attract. You ready? I’m
hungry.”
“Yeah, let’s go before they give or table to someone else.”
The two leave the hotel room and head for the elevator where Mike is
already waiting for them clad in blue jeans, a red Adidas t-shirt, and
black Converse tennies.
“Where have you guys been? It’s ten after seven. We’re gonna lose our
tale like last time,” Mike says in a voice meant to be stern but comes
out with a small smile.
Simultaneously, John and Robby point to each other with an accusing
“It’s his fault!” and then just laugh as all three of them get in the
elevator. They leave the hotel and walk two blocks to Sushi Mushu, a
small sushi bar which they visit any time they’re in Minneapolis. As
they approach the door Robby looks inside.
“Holy shit, look how packed it is! It’s a good thing we got
reservations.”
“Don’t worry about it. I got the reservations so everything will be
fine,” John says confidently as he pulls open the door and holds it for
his two friends.
They walk in and go over to the host, who is standing at a podium
looking intently at a list of names.
“Excuse me,” John says clearing his throat, “I have reservations for
three for seven-thirty under the name Rzeznik.”
The host looks up from his list with an annoyed expression and glances
at John, Robby, and Mike disapprovingly. He then looks at the list and
runs his finger down the paper. After a moment he looks back up and
says, “No Rzeznik here, sorry.”
Startled, John says, “What?! I called yesterday and was told that a
table for three would be reserved for us. Are you sure you got the name
right? It’s Rzeznik. R-Z-E-Z-N-I-K.”
With a little puff the host goes through the list again. “No, no
Rzeznik. Only Zezneek. But that’s not you. Now go, I’m busy.”
John throws his hands in the air. “Well of course that’s us! Somebody
just got the name wrong is all. The Zezneek should be Rzeznik. No big
deal. So can we be seated now please?”
“No Zezneek’s not you. Nobody got the name wrong. You didn’t make
reservations. You’re Rzeznik, somebody else is Zezneek.”
Robby steps forward because he can see that John is thisclose to
insanity. “Excuse me sir,” he says calmly, “could we please see the
manager and get this whole this straightened out?”
The host gives John a dirty glance and mumbles “Yes fine” and hurries
off.
John is clearly pissed be now. He is pacing back and forth with his
hands on his hips.
Mike, whose feathers couldn’t be ruffled by a hurricane, looks at John
and then says to Robby, “Why do we even come here? They mess up
reservations for us all the time.”
John has now resorted to standing stiffly in place, chewing his
fingernails. Answering for Robby he says, “’Cause they have the best
sushi anywhere. Ya know, we’ve never been the kind of people to use our
fame to get us things, but I’m gonna this time. I’m just sick of this
shit. Maybe when they find out that we have two platinum albums they’ll
finally let us in.”
Robby and Mike just shrug their shoulders in agreement. The host
returns, this time followed be a small, but very stern-looking elderly
Asian woman. He points the three out and she frowns and walks over to
them.
“Yes,” she says, “what you want? I busy here, need get back to work.”
John steps toward her and says, “I made reservations for three for
seven-thirty tonight under the name Rzeznik. Now your host says our
name isn’t on the list. But there’s the exact same reservation the name
Zezneek. Obviously someone just got the name wrong and instead of
Rzeznik they wrote Zezneek,” seeing her frown deepen he continues.
“We’re not trying to cause any trouble or anything ya know? We just
want to get in with the reservations I did make so we can have a good
dinner. So can we please be let in and we’ll forget this whole
misunderstanding?”
The woman looks silently at John and then at the list. “No,” she says
firmly, “no Rzeznik. Just Zezneek. You not come in. you not Zezneek.
Sorry but not our fault, yours.”
“Well,” John replies, starting to get upset again, “I didn’t want to
do this but do you know who we are? We’re in a band called the Goo Goo
Dolls. We’ve made six albums, two of which have gone platinum. We’re
here in Minnesota on tour and we’d really just like to sit down to a
good sushi dinner. So could we please have a table?”
She looks at him impatiently and then suddenly blurts out “We don’t
know no Goo Goo Doll!!! Now go or I call police. Go!”
Robby grabs John’s arm before he has a chance to open his mouth again
and pulls him back out into the street. “Come on. Forget it. Let’s just
go back to the hotel and order a pizza.”
“I can’t wait that long,” Mike moans, “I’m so hungry I’m getting’
dizzy.”
John wasn’t saying anything. He was still pissed and just stood
standing with his arms crossed, a bitter scowl on his face.
Robby looked from Mike to John and sighed saying, “Ok. Well I know
you’d like to go to Taco Bell Mike but the nearest one is like a
million miles away so let’s just go to Flaherty’s Bowl. Does that sound
alright?”
Mike eagerly shook his head. “Yeah, they have great French Fries.
Let’s go there.”
They both turned and looked at John. After a moment he gave in,
running his hand through his hair. “Ok, let’s go to Flaherty’s.”
Robby and Mike smiled and the three started the walk back to the
hotel. They all piled into John’s black Jeep and drove to Flaherty’s
Bowl.
As they walked in they were greeted by music, the sound of crashing
pins, and glowing black light.
“Hey,” Robby smiled, “it’s cosmic bowling. I love this!”
Mike looked confused and seeing this John laughed. “Cosmic bowling is
just when they use black lights, neon balls, and every once in a while
smoke comes out and covers the lanes. It’s pretty cool.”
Mike shrugged and followed Robby and John to get shoes. They got their
shoes, balls, and sat down at a lane. The incident at Sushi Mushu was
soon forgotten by all. The three friends laughed and bowled for a few
hours, all enjoying the evening they had off, knowing the chances to do
this were few and far between due to their hectic touring schedule.
As John was going for his fourth strike in a row a commercial for
Sushi Mushu came blaring over the radio. “Sushi Mushu, the Twin Cities
favorite sushi bar and restaurant. Come see us today. Located on the
corner of 5th and Broadway streets. Just look for the giant fortune
cookie.”
John almost threw his neon blue ball backwards. “Those assholes! I
can’t believe they wouldn’t let us in! We gotta get back at them. Let’s
report ‘em.”
“Report them to who? The oops-we-got-your-last-name-wrong bureau?”
Mike retorted.
A devilish grin slowly spread across Robby’s face. “No, we won’t
report ‘em. I gotta better idea. What’s Sushi Mushu known for?”
Confused, John suggested, “Good sushi?”
“No numbnuts,” Robby answered, “That giant fortune cookie that sits up
on the roof. What we’re gonna do is steal their fortune cookie. That’ll
teach ‘em to get our name wrong.”
John quickly agreed but Mike was a little hesitant. “Just how do you
propose we do this Rob?” he asked skeptically.
“Well,” Robby thought, “we’ll drive over there and park the Jeep in
the ally next to the place. You and me will go up on the roof and
unlatch it or whatever. Then we’ll tie some rope around it and lower it
down where John will be waiting to guide it into the back of the Jeep.
Then we simply drive away. We can leave it somewhere else. Like a
fountain in a park or something.”
Mike thought about this for a moment and then agreed to it. “Alright,
let’s do it,” he said.
John didn’t hear him. A mischievous glow shone in his eyes and he
gazed about proudly. Noticing this look, Robby said, “Ok John, let’s
have it. What kind of fucked up scheme are you planning?”
Coming back into the conversation he grinned. “We’re not just gonna
steal the cookie and then leave it somewhere. We’re gonna hold the
fucker for ransom.” John nodded his head in satisfaction.
“John I know you’re pissed at those people but I don’t think they’re
gonna pay us money to get a giant piece of plastic back. I mean-”
“No,” John interrupted, “not for money. For food. We’ll call them and
tell ‘em if they want their precious cookie back they’ll have to leave
food like on a corner or something. Then we’ll pick it up and leave the
cookie in its place. Yeah, that’s what we’re gonna do.”
Robby thought this was a great idea and even Mike, who normally just
lets things go, thought this was too great a prank to pass up. The
three quickly forgot their bowling game and sat in a huddle, working
out the details.
Hours later, around two a.m., John’s black Jeep pulled into the ally
next to the closed Sushi Mushu.
“Wow,” Mike said looking around, “Broadway sure is dark tonight.”
“Come on, forget about that. There’s the ladder,” said Robby as he
climbed out of the Jeep and started his ascent to the roof. John
watched from the car as Mike and Robby disappeared from view over the
rooftop. He heard them unscrewing the bolts and dragging the tied-up
fortune cookie to the edge of the dark building. He hopped out of the
car and waited for the giant cookie to come within his reach. Once it
was, he guided it into the back of the Jeep and untied the rope from
it. “Ok you guys, I got it. Let’s go,” he called up in a hushed voice.
He got in the driver’s seat and waited for his two friends to get in
with him.
Mike and Robby jumped in the car with him and Robby giggled, “Go man,
hurry up!”
In the early morning hours they arrived back at the hotel, covered the
fortune cookie with a blanket so no one could see it, and in an excited
clamber all three of them went into John’s room.
“So when can we call ‘em and let them know we have their cookie?” Mike
asked.
John flopped down on the bed. “We’ll wait ‘till nine. They open then
so if we call right away they won’t have had time to call the cops…”
John’s voice trailed off as he rolled on his side and closed his eyes.
“Come on Mike,” Robby yawned, “we better get some sleep. We still have
a concert tomorrow too.”
Robby and Mike stumbled sleepily to their own rooms to get some
shut-eye before their big day.
At ten to nine John was brought out of sleep by a pounding on the
door. “Alright, alright. I’m awake now. Stop pounding.”
From the other side of the door came Mike’s voice. “Come on man, it’s
almost nine. You gotta call the sushi place soon.”
John let them in and went back to bed, sliding between the sheets.
“The phone book’s in the drawer,” he mumbled, “Robby you call ‘em.
You’ve got a good voice for it.”
Robby thumbed through the book and found the number. In a low, gruff
voice he said, “Is this Sushi Mushu? Well let me talk to the manager.
It concerns a certain fortune cookie you seem to have lost.” A pause as
he was put on hold. “We have your fortune cookie. And you’re not
getting it back unless it’s on our terms. Got it?”
Mike could hear a shrill, excited voice on the other end. “Alright,
Robby continued, “this is what you’re gonna do. After you close
tonight, you- and I mean you, put a bag with three of the day’s
specials and a six-pack of beer in the ally next to the restaurant.
Sometime during the night we’ll come and pick up the food and leave
your giant fortune cookie in it’s place. Got that? Now, if there’s any
police or anyone but you involved we won’t even come. If anything looks
fishy to us you’ll never see this fortune cookie again. Is that
understood? Ok then, don’t get it wrong and don’t get any ideas.”
Robby hung up the phone and immediately he and Mike burst into
laughter. John would’ve too, but he had already fallen back asleep and
was snoring quietly.
John, Mike, and Robby spent that day at Roy Wilkin’s Auditorium doing
soundchecks and meeting fans. They played to a full, energetic crowd
and everything went smoothly. After the concert was over and the last
fan had gone home, the three boys drove to Patrick’s, a nearby bar to
wait until sushi Mushu had closed. At two-thirty in the morning, three
very drunk Goo Goo Dolls were kicked out of Patrick’s because it was
closing. They all sat down on the curb for a moment and then Robby
suddenly leapt to his feet. “Hey, we gotta go get the cookie and get
our ransom!”
“Oh yeah,” Mike mumbled, “where did we put that cookie again?”
All three of them looked at each other with glazed confused eyes and
then burst out laughing in drunkenness.
“Wait, wait,” John attempted to be serious, “We gotta think hard. We
have to find that cookie so we can get the food for it. Let me think… I
got it,” he sighed, “It’s in the back of my car at the hotel. Let’s
go.” With a wave of his arm and a proud smile John stood up and
stumbled off in the direction of the hotel, Robby and Mike bumbling
along behind him.
They got to the parking lot about twenty minutes later, after getting
lost three times on their way back. All three had pretty much sobered
up in their frustration of not being able to find the hotel. They
climbed into John’s Jeep and sped down Broadway towards Sushi Mushu.
After driving past it several times and deciding there wasn’t anyone
waiting for them John crept the car into the dark, damp ally. They got
out and unloaded the giant fortune cookie from the Jeep.
“There’s the bag,” John said pointing to a spot twenty feet away. “I’ll
go get it.”
He walked over and stooped down to pick up the bag of food when
suddenly five guys jumped out at him, encircling him. It was the
Backstreet Boys! When Mike and Robby saw this they ran off in freight.
John whirled around, taking in the scene.
“You shouldn’t have stolen that cookie Johnny-boy,” Nick Carter said
menacingly.
“Yeah,” chimed in Kevin, “now we’re gonna freak you.”
They all took a step closer. John’s eyes shone with freight as the five
singers moved in for the kill. “Ready?” shouted Howie, “A one-two, a
one-two-three!”
The Backstreet Boys started to try and fight John using synchronized
punches. To their dismay though, John quickly caught on and within
minutes all five lay on the ground, groaning in harmony. John dusted
off his hands, picked up his bag of sushi, and turned to the five heaps
on the concrete.
“Quit playing games with my heart boys,” he laughed.
He started walking back towards the car but stopped when five more
figures appeared at the end of the ally. John turned around and saw all
the Backstreet Boys still lying on the ground.
“What the fuck?” he asked, confused.
The five figures stepped into the street light and then John saw that
it wasn’t the Backstreet Boys but it was *NSYNC! They moved like
lightening and quickly surrounded him.
“Now you’re really in trouble,” said JC, “The Backstreet Fags were
nothing. Now you have to deal with us.”
They pounced on him and John went down in the middle of them screaming
“Fags! All of you!!”
Breathing heavily and drenched in a cold sweat John shot up in bed, his
eyes darting around the room and coming to rest on a laughing Robby.
The whole thing had been a dream! He couldn’t believe it.
“Geez man, what did you have to drink? You were flippin’ out in bed and
yelling something about fags. You ok?”
John shook his head and rubbed his eyes, trying to shake the image from
his mind. “Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Just had a weird dream is all. What
are you in here for? What do you want?”
“Well,” Robby answered smiling, “since we have the day off I was
thinkin’. You wanna go out and get some sushi?”
The blood drained from John’s face and he fainted before Robby could
say anything more.
