Amazon’s Desperate Attempts at Human Contact: A Night on the Southside
So, after months of avoiding bars, I ended up on the southside last night.
The southside is pretty much bar after bar after bar, with a few stores and venues mixed in. My friend Gwen and I ended up heading out around 9:30 and started our night at…okay, I don’t remember the first bar we went to. I know I had a pretty well mixed Captain’s and coke…and then a double shot of Captain’s. Which might explain why I don’t remember the name of the place.
Anyway, the place was crowded, filled with hot guys, but sadly none of them were interested in talking to us. Actually, nobody was interested in talking with us, and what good is trying to meet people if they won’t talk to you?
I should note that I decided to smoke last night. Because I wanted to be that girl. The cigarettes completed the outfit (the rest of it was a pair of dark dyed blue jeans, a white shirt with a black cami under it, and my new high heeled black boots). I also blatantly abused my black liquid eyeliner.
Eventually we got sick of that bar and headed down to Smokin’ Joe’s Saloon. That was more interesting, as Gwen began ranting at me about Scarlette Johansen being cast in “The Other Boleyn Girl.” She’s a history major with an intense interest in the reign of Henry VIII, so for her it’s like a slap in the face.
A drunk near us told her she should be happy, at which point I told him that she WAS happy. He then talked to us drunkenly and asked how long we’d lived in the city. Gwen heard it as “How long have you been together?” and asked him to clarify. She then ended up telling him “No, we’re not a couple.” His response:
“You know, I kinda thought you were, because you two look like your typical dyke couple, but then I heard you talking about wangs.”
The night got more interesting as we flirted with the bartender (always a safe bet as you’re going to get better treatment and possibly comped drinks, I think we only paid half price for most of our drinks last night) who took to throwing drink stirrers at us whenever he came to our end of the bar. Roughly 33% of those ended up in my cleavage.
There was also something about my breasts being a form of enlightenment that we came up with. I challenged the ceiling fans at Smokin’ Joe’s to become enlightened by my nipples. Please note: my shirt stayed on the whole time.
We were there until last call, after which we hit up Eat N Park at 3AM, and I have not seen 3AM at a diner in the longest time.
Long story short:
1) I didn’t meet anyone “special”2) I’m apparently a very convincing lesbian3) My cleavage is a magnet for drink stirrers4) My boobs bring enlightenment5) My hangover was not as bad as it could have been6) My days of social smoking have begun again
All in all, not a terrible weekend.