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Favourites: 1
OK, so here's my Mopapalooza report
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We started at Ryan's Irish Pub. Getting a table shouldn't be a problem on a Saturday night, right? Right? Oh, what's that? March Madness? Never heard of it.
Yet, against all odds, we do eventually get a table. Poor znufrii ends up over in the corner. He's not very chatty. It seems he, JackDawson, and ty97 started the party early, the day before. And, it also seems I'm quite deaf. Krusty's being very friendly, wants to say lots of things to me. He's sitting just across the table from me. I can't hear a damn thing. Bars are loud! And I'm deaf.
Two pitchers of Stella (and some mediocre bar food) later and it's time to go across the street to Dallas BBQ. We're late and we've missed our table. But we linger about outside for a bit and they finally have pity on us and let us in.
By now, we've already lost Ed Douglas and Jonathan Baylis. But we did pick up Bridezilla and Patty and Chun joined us at Ryan's (as did Jack from Will & Grace, or some vague resemblance thereof).
Note: People don't go to Dallas BBQ from the BBQ. They go for the giant margaritas. Further note: It's past 9pm, and there's people there with kids. Drinking margaritas. Not the kids. I can only assume the kids will be doing the driving. As will I, as I have yet to have a single drink.
Bridezilla doesn't like me. I can tell that already. Maybe it's because I called her "Bridezilla", or maybe it's because I said "She's only gonna get married - what? - 2 or 3 times in her life. (JackDawson) should cut her some slack." Oh well. I can't make everyone like me.
After about an hour of trying to consume pure margarita slushies, it's time for our next stop, the Boiler Room. This sounds like a nice, quaint little place. Time for Krusty to take his leave.
Curious place. Loud music, and crowded shoulder-to-shoulder or, rather, butt-to-butt. People make little conversation circles which generally involve conversing with the person either on your left or right and saying "Eh?" a lot. These little circles then migrate around the room until they fuse themselves to a table, after which they rarely surrender said table. Drinks come in little glasses that are 90% ice and 10% some clear liquid.
By now I'm having quite a good item. But for entirely different reasons than everyone else at the table. znufrii, who probably hasn't said a word since Ryan's, takes his leave. Also, did you know he looks like JJ Abrams? He denies ever hearing this before. Bollocks! He's a dead ringer. I just think most people don't know what JJ Abrams looks like.
Now ty97 seems to be taking some pity on me and apologizing for the behavior of the others (which generally involves singing along to songs and sometimes jumping up and down in a kind of pseudo-rhythmic dance). He also goes on to explain to me the presence of women at this bar (because I'm apparently not familiar with hags and beards). Shh, be quiet. I'm watching those two girls over there make out. They're not pretty, but it's something to do until the next Lady Gaga song comes on. Or maybe I'm watching to see if that chubby girl over there is gonna fall out of her dress. Then there's always that pretty girl at that other table I'm trying to make eye contact with. For Pete's sake! I'm a straight man at a gay bar! Opportunities like these don't come around every day.
It's getting late, now. 2 AM. Time to hit another bar. "There's strippers!" JackDawson tells me enthusiastically. "Girls?" "Any girls?" JackDawson asks Chun. "No, just guys." TAXI!
Mop
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