As I type now, John Kerry is being interviewed by Steve Harvey. Now that I've established that weird image in your head, let's go rewind to last night.
Somehow I found myself starting out in Hell's Kitchen at Posh. Quite a strange bar I have to say, it feels crowded when it actually isn't. Even more strange, the bartender was from Milwaukee and actually knew Mequon. Perhaps strange is the wrong word, because whenever I come across someone who knows my hometown it makes me feel like I'm not pulling the wool over everyone's eyes. It's a bit hard to explain, but I imagine that anyone living in the Northeast who wasn't born here understands where I'm coming from.
After a good spirited and friendly debate on socialism with a Frenchman it was onto the mainstay of every Tuesday evening--Splash. I jumped for joy--at least on the inside--upon entering because the music videos had returned. I was all settled in when all of a sudden I was besieged by a blonde woman and her gay male friend. They just came up into my box without a care. I do not understand it. It was somewhat ameliorated by the fact that she did start up a conversation and was quite an interesting person. Nonetheless, they violated my box, so I found my way to Barracuda.
I don't knpw why I went to Barracuda, except for one reason--I've missed waking up in the morning with a handstamp. Again, I was beseiged by another group of people--ironically, another blonde woman and her gay male friends. Now, I could ultimately care less who comes into a bar, but it does drive me insane when people start behaving as if others aren't there. I'm talking about SCREECHING IN MY EAR and flicking your hair right into my face. For pete's sake, could we kill this strain of narcissism that seems to be running rampant amongst urban twenty and thirtysomethings?
And trust me, no upspoken apology like "I am so sorry about that. I like totally hate it when people flick my hair" does not do the trick.
1 comment:
Let us both grow our hair long so we can flick it!
I think we need to discuss Socialism, too. one on one. That's one thing we've not talked about yet.
Last nite was a great nite to go out--glad you seemed to have had fun.
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