 | Call Me Troll, Bitch!
Current mood:  pleased So y'all have to go see Nikki! Nikki is rad, Nikki is awesome, and Nikki will play any song you want. My weekend starts on Thursday night with Christina, Brigid and Julian at Foley's in Downtown. This place is a sweet Irish pub that reminds a bit of a diner with the way different portions are partitioned off. Nikki is probably around 40, a MTF transitioner who can sing in a lady's or a man's voice and has a catalog of about 8,000 songs. Over the course of the evening she plays Moondance, Ring of Fire, Horse with No Name and some other bombastic favorites.
The night goes downhill when someone orders us shots of Rumplestiltskins. At least, that's what we all hear. We down the shots and are immediately knocked flat by the raw alcohol flavor and minty aftertaste. I'm impressed that I was even able to shoot it, but then have to spend about five minutes over the toilet convincing my stomach that it's not an incompatible transplant and that it should let the shot stay. I win.
Of course, it's only later that we find out that this wasn't some fun shot called a Rumplestiltskin. Noooooo...these were shots of Rumpleminze. Toootally different. For those of you that have never had it, you can check this out...
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rumpleminze
Not a good idea. Brigid starts going crazy, Christina falls down promptly upon leaving the bar, and I get to drive all three of them home as Julian cusses me out from the backseat about why the fuck would I possibly think of allowing him to drink that shot. I have no good answer.
Friday night is interesting. After Charles, Albert and others bail from Julian's, he, myself, Mike and Sonya go to celebrate Sonya's birthday. I'd get into how weird it was that we were the only three celebrating with her, but I think it's somewhat obvious!
She wants to go to Impala in North Beach, so we head out there and I pick up the five dollar cover for the group. Really, 5 bucks for a cover isn't all that bad in my opinion. Keep this in mind as it comes into play later. We get in and the crowd is pretty solid (though moreso downstairs where it costs like 300 bucks to go), and we set about the task of getting Sonya drunk. It's all shots for her, and while I thought I was in good shape, the way I react to the first red bull vodka tells me otherwise.
I decide it's time for my first joint of the evening. I walk to the front door and the lady stops me and says, "there's no in and outs. If you leave you'll have to pay the cover again."
"Really?" (big flirting smile on my face here)
"Really." (not amused or flirting back)
"But I just need to go outside for a bit." (less of a smile this time)
"What for?"
"To smoke."
"Sir, we have a smoking patio right out there."
Now, I'm not a moron. I've seen the smoking patio. I've also seen that it has a fence around it and security guards there.
"You don't want me smoking on your patio."
"Sir, we have a smoking patio right out there." (she says it this time like I didn't hear it the first time and emphasizes her point by pointing it out to me)
I calmly repeat, "You don't want me smoking on your patio. Is there any way I can get back in?"
Finally, she relents and tells me that if I tell her upon reentering that I like New England Clam Chowder, I won't have to pay the cover.
I stagger across the street and find a beautiful corner to post up on and have a few tokes. I'm drunk though, and a few tokes quickly turns into about 80% of the joint. I'm getting ready to put it back in the case when a group of people turn the corner, smell the thing and I hear someone go, "Someone's smoking pot!!!"
Let me just tell you fools. When you smell pot being smoked in a public area, whether you want some or not, yelling out the above isn't the greatest idea, for you or the fella smoking it. At any rate, they yell this, one of them asks me for a hit, which I reply to by handing him, to his great surprise, what's left of my joint. As I run back across the street I hear, "Dude, that dude gave me the whole thing!" I think to myself, "tonight, joints, tomorrow night, grammar."
I cruise back into Impala, and here's Clam Chowder girl. As I walk up to her she says, "Cover is 10 dollars." Now what made that go up five dollars from the last time I went in? I want to laugh in her face, but instead I ask, "what if I told you I really like New England Clam Chowder?" to which she lets me in.
I'm back inside for a while getting my bearings, and at this point, Sonya has used up the small reserves of Mike's dance moves, I've had another drink and Julian has taken to the floor to see what he can do. I convince Mike to come outside with me while I smoke my second joint. As we come back in, the bouncer goes, "were you smoking a joint?"
I look at him real confused and say, "who? me?" and walk past him.
At the door, the nice young lady looks at Mike and I and says, "Cover is 10." I look at her and say, "what if I told you that this guy really likes New England Clam Chowder?" Now she gets mad telling me that I wasn't supposed to let anyone else in with this secret code, and I'm like, chill woman, he was already in here. We get by, and now it's time for me to take on Sonya on the dance floor. At this point though, I'm in such a good mood, I'd dance with a rattle snake if it wanted to groove.
The cab drops Mike, Julian and Sonya back at their place and then takes me to Christina's place, where I spend about 10 minutes, iPod on, dancing in the street, because that's just the type of place I'm in right now. Actually, I find myself dancing to my iPod in public a lot lately...the other day I spent about 15 minutes walking down a sidewalk in the city dancing from square to square. People look at me like I'm out of my mind, but what can I say? Happiness abounds.
Saturday it's a wonderful life at Nini's, as I mention to Jonathan that the cajun chicken wasn't quite spicy and he makes up for it by paying for my meal. Considering Charles had the same thing it's too bad he didn't mention it too. Saturday night we head out to some place in the Mission. We won't get into Julian's alter ego Rex (as in T-Rex, ready to destroy anything in his path), but let's just say that Rex had fun chucking a few things around, including a christmas tree which he almost threw into a car.
I wish I had something cool to say about Sunday, but my life experiences have made Sunday suck. I was lucky to get to sleep in a bit and see the second half of the Giants v. Eagles game. Ready to get that money tomorrow at close of escrow. See y'all next time. |
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