So the bar was Dirt. Literally. That’s the name of the place. And it’s Friday night.
The Rockstar, Cornflake, some chick, and I walk into the joint. We realize pretty quickly we are the coolest people in the joint. It’s a room, with a bar in the middle of it and that’s about it. It’s painted black and there are some booths scattered about and nary a barstool in sight. Drinks are ordered and we take up residence at a booth.
Androgyny is apparently the attire of the day and every guy in the joint appears to be hugging any guy that comes near him. Now don’t get me wrong I am not above hugging a guy if the situation is right but random hugs in a bar is just not the way things ought to be done. I pull my hat down as Rockstar orders another round.
Bits and pieces of conversation float our way and apparently one guy, who looks like Bowie circa Space Oddity, is bragging about kicking someone’s ass. This leads to a general chuckle from our table. Rockstar and I participate in the same pastime as any other bar. We make fun of people just a little too loudly. No-one will even look at us and the service sucks.
Cornflake’s friend, the random chick, had to head home because “my fiance doesn’t let me stay out too late”. I offer to walk her to the car. (Stop thinking that you pervs I am married). The trip to the car was a non-event. I made sure she got away from the bar and back to her master. The walk back was another story.
The andrgynous ass kicking dude was about to get into a cab and thought it a good idea to bulldog yours truly. I locked eyes with him and informed him that he really ought to take a picture as they last longer. He stood up straight just in time for me to stand nose to nose with him. He asked me, and not very politely I might add, what I had said. I explained to him that what I had said was that the most wise course of action would be for him to retire to his cab and be on his way. He, and again not so politely, queried me as to why this would be a wise course of action. I explained, overly politely, that his bed was likely more comfortable than a hospital bed and that being the case I was solely concerned for comfort. He indeed retired to his cab and left the premises.
I returned to the party of two that was left inside. Rockstar paid the bill while I pocketed our shot glasses, rocks glasses, and the ashtray. Normally I don’t take things from bars but this one sucked so badly that I was owed something for my time there.
The rest of the evening was completely without incident.