1:27 p.m. - 2003-11-03
D-land meets The Bar
I built it. They didn't come.
All that candy. All the time making the costume. All the freakin bouncing off the walls being excited about Trick or Treaters.
I only got 4. They came together. They came at exactly 8 o'clock. The end of the Trick or Treat window.
I am so freaking mad! I'd been anxiously anticipating Halloween Trick or Treaters for months. And I was wronged. There was no Trick, no Treat. There were no kids. The designated Halloween window came and went without a single child roaming through the neighborhood looking to stock up on sugary goods. Only the four who almost missed my ass as I was heading out to a party.
The party was good though. I drank punch, posed with hookers (friends in costume, of course) and saw a 23 year old penis. This guy had been coming on to me all night. Looked like a baseball player, with the big thighs and butt. All attitude. Pretty face. And Shaved balls!
Shaved balls! And a shaved chest, and shaved arms.
Eeeew. Just for the record, I hate shaved balls. I think they make men look like little boys, and I get creeped out.
So I sent him fishing on the backyard pool. Of course, it was an above ground, with no heat, and it was 45 degrees out. I hope he didn't catch anything. (Hee, hee! I made a pun!)
The next night turned out to be even better. Sixweasels and I met up with Dolphie, Rachelliz and GrlEnamored for a night out on the town.
The girls were full of Hard Rock Cafe food and beverage, but persevered for ice cream. We people watched a bit by the water, then moved on to listen to a Chilean musical group make new age music. We were treated the dance stylings of two children who entertained the crowd more than the musicians. There was a baby who kept making a bee line for the tip jar. That was good for a snicker.
Then we got wind of a conversation happening behind our heads. A couple of toothless people we're telling a story about how the man got a phone call at home from a woman offering him a job, but his wife, or whatever got pissed because it was a woman calling. She didn't care that it was a professional call. It was a woman and she was determined to play the jealous mate.
Hmmm. Welcome to Bawlmer hon!
We then moved onto the highlight of the evening -- The Bar. The girls had been reading Sixweasels' account of The Bar goings on for some months, and were pretty curious. They were warned, but still maintained an interest in being patrons for an evening.
The Bar was The Bar, and showed itself well. There was the Crazy Stinky Pizza Guy who ran us from our table due the to stench of double cooked rotten feet. Then there was the creepy mystical healer who put crystals and stones in my palm and claimed to be able to heal me. He told me, of course, that I was the most beautiful girl in the world, and we had this great connection, and we were meant for eachother. I was polite to a point, because he was buying beer in my friends' bar, but enough was enough. I told him that he was getting up my ass and to head on out. So I left the bartender an extra tip to make up for the loss.
Rachelliz -- you may thank me by the wy. Because he really wanted to crystal you up, but I happened to walk up to the bar first. Creepy man deflected!!!!
Rachelliz and GrlEnamored did get a good dose of Bawlmer drunk men though. They were invited to play horseshoes with a couple of studly (laughing hysterically at my joke)locals who fell in love with the beautiful girls Six and I brought them. So they thought.
The girls kept us entertained by lobbing wise ass remarks to the men to keep them at bay. Grl was especially sarcastic and nailed one of them good. He just offered to take Viagra though. You see, Bawlmer men are impervious to insults. If anything, they consider it foreplay. In the end, though, the hint was taken as we were left to ourselves.
Then the inevitable redneck pissing match ensued, with a regular patron being insulted by an old man calling him a homo. Homo is the ultimate insult to the Bawlmer man, you see. Nothing worse. Better to be an axe-murderer or a rapist. At least then your straight.
As predicted, this squabble turned ugly, and required breaking up before the girls were treated to a bloody fight. Thanks to some quick thinking by Six, one of our guy friends came out, called both men assholes, and sent the instigator packing.
Then it was time for our friends to leave and get ready to continue their travels. And I think they left a little older, a little wiser, and a lot more knowledgeable about the Bawlmer redneck bar scene than they ever wanted to be.
Gee girls, do you wonder now why I've never met the man of my dreams at The Bar? I thought not.
