Went out with some friends on Saturday and had a very good time. So good a time I had to recuperate on Sunday. Here’s how the day went:
5:00pm – Chocolate Place. We were supposed to meet at 5:00 at this place where you can get chocolate fondue. So I arrive promptly at 5:00 to find the place empty (of people I know). Allow me to sound like an old man for a moment, but in my day we just didn’t show up late. I think there’s a rudeness involved in it – unless there’s an emergency in which case you call.
It’s about 10 or 15 minutes after the hour now and people start showing up and we decide to go in. Not everyone is there but we’re starting to congregate. People start to drift in with the last couple appearing a little after 5:30. So now we’re all in attendance and we get the attention of the shop-workers so that we can begin this thing.
Let’s just say they’re moving about as fast as molasses in winter. Once we get their attention, it’s about 10 minutes before they ‘take our order’ (we get milk chocolate and white chocolate). It’s at least another 15 minutes before they actually bring out the two dishes of fondue.
For the first few minutes the chocolate is really good, but it has no heat source so it gets cold pretty quickly. By this time the eight of us have polished off the fondue items (things like Graham Crackers, ‘Nilla Wafers, pretzels, marshmallows, strawberries, etc.)
Having never been to one of these places, no one knows what to do when we’re ready to go. The help is nowhere to be seen and we just want to pay up and go. Finally we find this girl (who looks like she’s about 13 – and just as mature). So we pay up and head for a wine bar right across the street.
6:45pm – Wine Bar. For some reason I got in my head that we were going to be eating – I mean REALLY eating – at one of these places. Apparently this wasn’t the place either. I’m looking at a menu and asking around who will be eating something of substance. No takers… they just want some wine.
That’s fine, I have an appetizer that sounded larger on the menu. It’s a little “fru fru” for my tastes but it was good. A good time is had by most. The problem (if you want to call it that) was that there were 3 men and 5 women. Usually I like those odds but when the conversation has too much estrogen I usually try and swing it back in the other direction.
“How ‘bout that [recent sporting event], guys?”
I’m not sure why this usually elicits a laugh, but, whatever. I’m not sure why, but there was talk of visiting an irish-themed bar that was nearby. I’m not sure what the problem was with this place other than it might have been considered a little expensive. Not a show-stopper so we’re on our way to another place.
8:45pm – The Irish Place. So the eight of us walk into this place and it looks like things are picking up. They’re not at a “full boil” yet, but you can see it happening soon. It might be tough to find a table and I hear the hostess say something about a 45 minute wait. We stood there for a minute or two when she comes up and says she has a table for us.
Quick funny story: the waitress says I look like the guy in the Geico commercial. I can’t think of the one she’s picturing. When she walks away I think of a beautiful line: “You mean the caveman?”
When we sit down, things are fine but are picking up quickly. It’s loud enough now that you have to yell at your neighbor to hear them. The others are having conversations but I’m only picking up 1 out of every 4 words being said. There is a basketball game being shown on the TV that is in my line of sight so I start to pay attention to the action.
About 10 minutes after nine somebody turns off THAT TV – no others, just that one. Apparently a band is going to be playing and that’s the TV above the stage. All other TV’s require that I crane my neck in ways it was not designed to bend so the basketball game is a blur of color in the distance.
So 20 minutes goes by and the band starts playing. It’s a cover band and they’re doing a halfway decent job. People start coming in heavy now and, as I look out the window, I can see a line forming. The people inside, beers in hand, form a semi-circle around the front of the band.
One of the people in my party suggest that we go to this bar she knows has just opened up. It’s a bit of a trek but I’m up for the challenge. She was telling me what it was near but after we arrived I told her we were nowhere near where she thought we’d end up.
11:00pm – Some New Bar. I have to admit this place we went was pretty cool. The problem here is that it was 20 guys to 4 women. Before we got there, that was the whole population of the place – 24 people. The music was humpin’, bumpin’ and ever-so thumpin’ but that joint was just not jumpin’.
I’m sitting there in this very nice leather chair, beer in hand, when this little hottie spills her gin and tonic on my leg. It wasn’t her fault, the bottom step of the stairs was sticking out in the walkway. She was genuinely apologetic and I agreed that the bottom step was ill-placed. She said she would buy me a drink but I didn’t think we were staying long enough for that.
A few minutes later she was on the arm of one of the 20 guys in the place. I can hear Superman’s voice in my head as I write this “why didn’t you make a move?”. The answer: she was just too drunk. It’s like pulling the wings off a fly or using a magnifying glass on ants. Plus I knew I was driving some of the folks away from here.
So we decided this place was nice but just not happenin’ tonight. We make plans to go somewhere else.
We leave there and hit up one of the cities parking garages. We have two cars for seven people (we dropped someone somewhere along the lines). We walk a block in the heavy mist to the next location.
12:45am – Dance Club Dive. We figure that at this juncture in the evening they’re not going to make us pay a cover charge. They do. We figure we’re going to get at least 1 hour of something out of this. Wrong.
We sit at the bar making humorous comments and staring at the bartender’s lovely cleavage. I’m sure you know what it’s like to have a good time but not remember the specifics of why it was good – this was one of those times. The club turned up the “ugly lights” about 1:30 which means the party is just about over. It also means that you can actually see the skank you were dancing with and can make a better determination as to whether you want to go home with her. I say “don’t do it”.
So everyone starts funneling out of the bar through the kitchen… wait, what? That slice of greasy, sloppy pizza smelled really good at that moment. Maybe that’s their ploy: to fill the hunger of drunk patrons.
We walk back to the parking garage and retrieve our cars. Somehow I end up driving some of the folks home (they’re going to pick up their car tomorrow). So it’s 3 guys in my back seat, one of the guy’s wife is in the front seat, and I’m driving.
So the guy who’s wife is in the front seat starts drunk dialing his old girlfriends. It’s almost 2 in the a.m.
He easily leaves the drunkest messages I’ve ever heard on their voicemail. And his wife is in the front seat (she doesn’t seem to care). He’s got his cell phone on ‘speaker’ and there is so much laughing going on I wonder about the quality of the message being left.
I’m laughing so hard at the antics I can barely keep the car straight. This is also made more difficult by the thin layer of water on the road.
We all made it home safely, though, and I slept most of Sunday.
So, how was YOUR weekend?
5:00pm – Chocolate Place. We were supposed to meet at 5:00 at this place where you can get chocolate fondue. So I arrive promptly at 5:00 to find the place empty (of people I know). Allow me to sound like an old man for a moment, but in my day we just didn’t show up late. I think there’s a rudeness involved in it – unless there’s an emergency in which case you call.
It’s about 10 or 15 minutes after the hour now and people start showing up and we decide to go in. Not everyone is there but we’re starting to congregate. People start to drift in with the last couple appearing a little after 5:30. So now we’re all in attendance and we get the attention of the shop-workers so that we can begin this thing.
Let’s just say they’re moving about as fast as molasses in winter. Once we get their attention, it’s about 10 minutes before they ‘take our order’ (we get milk chocolate and white chocolate). It’s at least another 15 minutes before they actually bring out the two dishes of fondue.
For the first few minutes the chocolate is really good, but it has no heat source so it gets cold pretty quickly. By this time the eight of us have polished off the fondue items (things like Graham Crackers, ‘Nilla Wafers, pretzels, marshmallows, strawberries, etc.)
Having never been to one of these places, no one knows what to do when we’re ready to go. The help is nowhere to be seen and we just want to pay up and go. Finally we find this girl (who looks like she’s about 13 – and just as mature). So we pay up and head for a wine bar right across the street.
6:45pm – Wine Bar. For some reason I got in my head that we were going to be eating – I mean REALLY eating – at one of these places. Apparently this wasn’t the place either. I’m looking at a menu and asking around who will be eating something of substance. No takers… they just want some wine.
That’s fine, I have an appetizer that sounded larger on the menu. It’s a little “fru fru” for my tastes but it was good. A good time is had by most. The problem (if you want to call it that) was that there were 3 men and 5 women. Usually I like those odds but when the conversation has too much estrogen I usually try and swing it back in the other direction.
“How ‘bout that [recent sporting event], guys?”
I’m not sure why this usually elicits a laugh, but, whatever. I’m not sure why, but there was talk of visiting an irish-themed bar that was nearby. I’m not sure what the problem was with this place other than it might have been considered a little expensive. Not a show-stopper so we’re on our way to another place.
8:45pm – The Irish Place. So the eight of us walk into this place and it looks like things are picking up. They’re not at a “full boil” yet, but you can see it happening soon. It might be tough to find a table and I hear the hostess say something about a 45 minute wait. We stood there for a minute or two when she comes up and says she has a table for us.
Quick funny story: the waitress says I look like the guy in the Geico commercial. I can’t think of the one she’s picturing. When she walks away I think of a beautiful line: “You mean the caveman?”When we sit down, things are fine but are picking up quickly. It’s loud enough now that you have to yell at your neighbor to hear them. The others are having conversations but I’m only picking up 1 out of every 4 words being said. There is a basketball game being shown on the TV that is in my line of sight so I start to pay attention to the action.
About 10 minutes after nine somebody turns off THAT TV – no others, just that one. Apparently a band is going to be playing and that’s the TV above the stage. All other TV’s require that I crane my neck in ways it was not designed to bend so the basketball game is a blur of color in the distance.
So 20 minutes goes by and the band starts playing. It’s a cover band and they’re doing a halfway decent job. People start coming in heavy now and, as I look out the window, I can see a line forming. The people inside, beers in hand, form a semi-circle around the front of the band.
One of the people in my party suggest that we go to this bar she knows has just opened up. It’s a bit of a trek but I’m up for the challenge. She was telling me what it was near but after we arrived I told her we were nowhere near where she thought we’d end up.
11:00pm – Some New Bar. I have to admit this place we went was pretty cool. The problem here is that it was 20 guys to 4 women. Before we got there, that was the whole population of the place – 24 people. The music was humpin’, bumpin’ and ever-so thumpin’ but that joint was just not jumpin’.I’m sitting there in this very nice leather chair, beer in hand, when this little hottie spills her gin and tonic on my leg. It wasn’t her fault, the bottom step of the stairs was sticking out in the walkway. She was genuinely apologetic and I agreed that the bottom step was ill-placed. She said she would buy me a drink but I didn’t think we were staying long enough for that.
A few minutes later she was on the arm of one of the 20 guys in the place. I can hear Superman’s voice in my head as I write this “why didn’t you make a move?”. The answer: she was just too drunk. It’s like pulling the wings off a fly or using a magnifying glass on ants. Plus I knew I was driving some of the folks away from here.
So we decided this place was nice but just not happenin’ tonight. We make plans to go somewhere else.
We leave there and hit up one of the cities parking garages. We have two cars for seven people (we dropped someone somewhere along the lines). We walk a block in the heavy mist to the next location.
12:45am – Dance Club Dive. We figure that at this juncture in the evening they’re not going to make us pay a cover charge. They do. We figure we’re going to get at least 1 hour of something out of this. Wrong.We sit at the bar making humorous comments and staring at the bartender’s lovely cleavage. I’m sure you know what it’s like to have a good time but not remember the specifics of why it was good – this was one of those times. The club turned up the “ugly lights” about 1:30 which means the party is just about over. It also means that you can actually see the skank you were dancing with and can make a better determination as to whether you want to go home with her. I say “don’t do it”.
So everyone starts funneling out of the bar through the kitchen… wait, what? That slice of greasy, sloppy pizza smelled really good at that moment. Maybe that’s their ploy: to fill the hunger of drunk patrons.
We walk back to the parking garage and retrieve our cars. Somehow I end up driving some of the folks home (they’re going to pick up their car tomorrow). So it’s 3 guys in my back seat, one of the guy’s wife is in the front seat, and I’m driving.
So the guy who’s wife is in the front seat starts drunk dialing his old girlfriends. It’s almost 2 in the a.m.He easily leaves the drunkest messages I’ve ever heard on their voicemail. And his wife is in the front seat (she doesn’t seem to care). He’s got his cell phone on ‘speaker’ and there is so much laughing going on I wonder about the quality of the message being left.
I’m laughing so hard at the antics I can barely keep the car straight. This is also made more difficult by the thin layer of water on the road.
We all made it home safely, though, and I slept most of Sunday.
So, how was YOUR weekend?