Splash-Rawhide Post Mortem: Crack & Chicken

It was a very brief night out for me, which is odd since I would think that the last real night I have before surgery would be akin to Mardi Gras and the Fall of Rome, but perhaps that was last week.

Due to the rain and the coat check beign downstairs, I hung around the downstairs bar last night. Alas, no Queer As Folk lookalikes on this night, which is a good thing. So here are several notable things that occurred in a special pre-surgery list format:

• Dance artists are mostly anonymous. Their videos try desperately to make you remember them. Unfortunately most of these are cheaply done and all you get are endless pans and close-ups of the singer "singing."
• Splash is really trying to hype up their Wednesday nights. The perky man who does the announcements at Splash promises "Guaranteed Chicken: all dancers under 21" on Wednesday nights. I will now never go to Splash on a Wednesday night.
• It was butt crack city last night with the bartenders. Almost all of them were showing some crack. Is there some new faux-plumber fashion craze that I have never heard of?
• Rawhide promises "NY's hottest go-go boys." If a short man with big muscles, a protruding belly, and a dancing style that consists basically of waddling is the best New York can offer, then I shudder to imagine what Newark offers.

Jiminy, I have lurid nights out.