Welp, this is one of those posts that didn’t need to be written (did I hear someone say, aren’t they all like that?). Nothing of significance or interest occurred during my Saturday night on the town, but let me tell you about it anyway.
I baked up a batch of my brownies to share with the girls, but it wasn’t clear in my mind which girls. I thought I might change things up and treat the Blue Butterfly crew, but I changed my mind as I walked into town and went to Cheap Charlies instead.
I had the usual CC experience–Alma on my right, Nerissa on my left, and Inez giving me a back rub. I told some jokes, and they laughed while enjoying their lady drinks and brownies. I drank gin and soda. As the dinner hour approached, I considered ordering something from Foodies downstairs, but the visual image of that Philly cheesesteak sandwich from John’s place overruled that thought. I paid my tab and headed up the highway.
When I arrived at John’s, a sign on the door said, “Closed for emergency repairs.” I stood there with a WTF expression on my face until one of the upstairs waitresses called to me, saying they were doing electrical work and would reopen in one or two hours. Damn, that was disappointing.
I crossed the highway (I always walk facing traffic) and headed back to my side of town. A light rain began to fall, so I took refuge in Blue Butterfly. I’m hardly ever here unless it’s a Hash On-Home, but the waitresses all knew my name. Two of them joined me at my table, including Tanya, a former Hasher I’ve written about before.
Anyway, it was the usual chitchat that comes with a lady drink. Although out of the blue, Tanya mentioned how much she missed my brownies! I didn’t have the heart to tell her about the ones I had baked earlier for my aborted mission to Blue Butterfly. I’ll definitely bring some next time I come here.
I still needed some food in my belly, so I continued my journey down the highway, ultimately deciding to visit Wet Spot, where I could order something from Sit-n-Bull to eat. It was still early, but it wasn’t busy, and none of the people I usually entertain (or do they entertain me?) were around. So, I sat alone, ate my soft-shell chicken tacos (without the rice and bean sides), then headed out.
My next and last stop for the evening was Whiskey Girl. My regular waitress, Jen, wasn’t around, and all the other girls were in the “ignoring me” mode. I even had to get up and go to the bar to order my second drink. That’s a little distressing when I can’t even pay for attention or company.
Oh, I had messaged my friend earlier that I wouldn’t be attending the private party at Snackbar. Then I got a message from my ex there asking where I was. I just responded that I was taking a break. I guess she assumed that meant from drinking (fat chance of that!) because she replied, “Good.” Anyway, as fate would have it, “the Dick” (my rival from the past) was at Whiskey Girl when I arrived. Not long after he left, my ex messaged me that the Dick said I was at Whiskey, but maybe it was my twin. She had a laughing emoji at the end of her message, but the implication was that I had lied earlier, and I guess, in a way, I had. So, I responded that it was me at Whiskey, and I didn’t come to the party because I wasn’t ready to relive old memories. She answered, “Okay,” and we left it at that.
And then something nice happened at Whiskey Girl. An attractive young woman walked past my table, hesitated, then returned and greeted me. It was a nice gesture after being ignored earlier. If I recall correctly, her name is Niki, and I invited her to join me. Turns out, it was her first night at work and first time working in a bar. So, I guess, in a sense, I took her cherry with the lady drink I bought her. Actually, I wound up buying her two. I’ll have a new WG favorite next time I visit, assuming she’s still working by then. Lots of the girls don’t enjoy the bargirl experience, and Niki is a dancer, which to me is the most challenging job of all—standing up on a stage like meat on display at the market. I feel more pity than lust when watching them wait for a customer. I hope it works out for her.
I’d had enough, literally and figuratively, so I caught a trike for home. I finished season five of Lucifer (one more season to go) and went to bed.
And if you made it this far into this post, you must be thinking: “Is that all there is?” And the answer to that is, yes, that’s all there is.
I know what you must be saying to yourselves “If that's the way she feels about it Why doesn't she just end it all” Oh, no, not me I'm in no hurry for that final disappointment Cause I know just as well as I'm standing here talking to you That when that final moment comes and I'm breathing my last breath I'll be saying to myself Is that all there is Is that all there is If that's all there is, my friends Then let's keep dancing Let's break out the booze and have a ball If that's all there is
Then I got a message from my ex there asking where I was.
Which one?
Niki is a dancer, which to me is the most challenging job of all—standing up on a stage like meat on display at the market.
So why do the SOB at all?
I wouldn’t worry about the blog content being pedestrian. You’re a slice-of-life blogger, after all, and your regulars know what to expect when they visit your place.
Have fun with Season 6 of “Lucifer.”
To clarify: by “do the SOB,” I mean “attend the SOB.”
Kevin, the last one I said the words I love you to.
The SOB is a competition where the girls perform choreographed dance routines in costumes. The normal “dancing” in the girly bars is standing on a stage while scantily clad and perhaps occasionally swaying to the music. There are occasional exceptions, but most of the girls are just waiting around for someone to call them down for a drink, not dancing.