Bars

Sunday night, memorial day weekend, my friends – whom I don’t see that often – call me and ask for me to drag my ass up and over the mountain down to the beach to go out. Since I usually don’t go I decided to quit being a lazy ass and go. The place, Harvelles, is tiny ie. very tiny. First it was $10 to get in and then the battled began.

To start with I have to practically beat my way to the bar. The place is like one long hallway w/ the bar on your left and a few tables on the right. Then at the end is the “stage”. Or the 6in off the ground platform where 6 guys are crammed in surrounded by a giant smoke cloud which was not a smoke machine. Nope. It was the singers 100’s cigarettes which at the beginning of every song he lights another one. I hadn’t seen that much chain smoking since the prime time soap era in 80’s. Yikes! I felt myself getting lung cancer. Slowly the cells formed and choked me until I almost vomited. Ok fine. I’m exaggerated.

I digress. Pushing my way to the bar I finally got a beer or sort of a beer; a Bud Light. Yummy! I am 22 again! Kill me. Now trying to maneuver my way through drunks, holding a beer, and trying to not get groped I pushed/flighted my way to the side of the “stage” where my friends where standing Keep in mind, the geniuses, decided to stand on the side which featured the bathrooms. Good choice. Now there are tons of drunk girls pushing/stumbling their way to the bathroom throughout the entire performance.

So as I’m standing there, getting cancer, watching burlesque dancers go at it on a pole and on boxes, which BTW I seriously now want to be one of those girls – hot, I’m smashed against the sound board and a F’ing couple. The “couple” stand in front of me and every time a drunk pushes their way through he pushes his elbow into either my breast or rib cage. Seriously I kept saying, “ouch! You’re hurting me!” Then he’d turn, sheepishly look me in the face, and say, “sorry” and shrug his shoulders I’m like sorry my ass! Move 2 inches forward you asshole! Honestly i didn’t say that but I really, really wanted to but didn’t have the balls. Plus I was tired.

20 minutes of this though and I now have a nice bruise under my right breast. Goodie. That area was getting a bit bland. Better to have a surprise waiting under there. some days I just feel so very old and that night I felt 110 years old. Blech! I’m working on that problem………