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Bad Bad Bad Bad Bar
It appears as though I have found my very own bad bar (TM Weetabix). We get all kinds at my bad bar. It's an interesting mix of the geriatric, the underage, the trampy, the exceedingly modest, the "stuck in the 80s crowd" and the "cutting edge of fashion" crowd, the potheads, and even two incredibly out of place thugs in 'do-rags. I have not yet spent an evening in this bar (and the evenings I spend in the bar are increasingly frequent) without meeting someone new and no matter how good my intentions are, the night always ends with shots taken (last nights adventures included one jagermeister and one "surfer on acid"). It's a bad, bad, bad bar. It's also my ticket to one crazy summer. We met up with a friend of Sarah T.'s from work who brought two of her little stoner friends with her. You may not know this about me, but I love me some potheads. They're the friendliest sort of people you're ever going to meet. I even spent a significant portion of 2000-2001 as a pothead myself. That is, until my friends cut me off cold turkey because, as it turns out, pot makes me sleepy and the party generally has a hard time taking off when I'm bunkered down under the covers sleeping for 14 hours at a time. In any case, I'm no longer a pothead myself (I don't partake at all - even when offered - usually - mostly because I'm much more fun on a good beer buzz but also because - as it turns out - I'm not a huge fan of the pot. And also - how awesome was that sentence? I think I just killed grammar.) but I hit it off immediately with the little stoner friends (two boys who looked like this and this - the one who's not Kurt Russell in that picture) and we spent the evening playing a rousing game of "count the mullets" (final count = 7) At one point my favorite little stoner dude leaned over and whispered in my ear "hey - did you see Patrick Swayze at the bar?" And, indeed, there at the bar stood the spitting image of Patrick Swayze circa 1989. Stonerdude: "I think he's wearing the same shirt he wore in Ghost" HEE! We spent a significant amount of time trying to get Sarah T. to go ask him to sign her boob. I think we almost had her, but at that moment the band's light guy/part time singer (who Sarah T. knows from work and who we plan to make our new BFF and who is also the reason we began going to the bad bar in the first place) pulled up a chair and proceeded to "come out" to Sarah T. The conversation could have been a little awkward if, at that moment, the target of the now defunct "Operation Gold Digging Whore" hadn't made an appearance on the arm of a girl who can only be described as "skanky." We watched in awed horror as they slithered all over each other at the pool tables. Sarah T. was a little offended that she had been dropped so abruptly and for such a huge step down, but we assured her that it was simply because he had clearly set his sights too high initially and when he was unable to bait her, he cut his losses and took about 28 steps backwards. We then consoled Sarah T. (with alcohol) about the boat she will never have the opportunity to take a ride on. It's for the best. Dude is dirrty. Towards the end of the evening the construction/maintenance guy I'd been drooling over at work a couple months ago made an appearance. I did a double take and then promptly lost my ability to function socially. At that time I was alone at the table with my little stonerdudes as Sarah T. and her friend had made their way to the stage to catch a bridal bouquet (was there a wedding party at the bad bar? Nobody really knows for sure. My girls disappointed me though as they returned emptyhanded and more than a little confused.) Sadly, by the time I had regained my senses and formulated a plan wherein I could plant myself face to face with my droolworthy object of obsession - he had drained his beer and disappeared. Alas - it was not meant to be. Though everyone went home emptyhanded (well, except for Sarah T. who made me stop at the grocery store for donuts and a candybar) the night was a success. "Operation Summer Whore", though still operating at 0% (and a little bit threatened by my inability to function when presented with opportunity) is well on its way. |
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