Pete's Log: night life
Entry #1279, (Life in General)(posted when I was 23 years old.)
It's not often that a social situation causes me to start singing NOFX's "Kill All The White Man" to myself. But a Philly club drove me to that. More on that later.
So yesterday was Cari's graduation party. That was quite entertaining. Among other things, I heard a joke about nuns. Wanna hear it? That's what I thought.
So these three nuns are cleaning the rectory. One of them finds a pack of condoms in the priest's bedroom. When she shows them to the two other nuns, one of them says "Oh, that's alright, I poked holes in them last week." The other nun then faints.
Ha ha. So yeah, it was fun. Then last night we decided to go out on the town with one of Cari's ex-roommates from ND. I almost wore a shirt I got in Atlantic City. It's a kids size shirt, so it's quite tight, but it's cut very well, I'm very happy with how I look in it. Cari and I both agreed, though, that if I wore that shirt, men would try to pick me up. Which would have been fun, but I decided against it. So yeah ... I picked the first clean shirt I came across, which was a black anarchy shirt. And I was wearing black jeans and black boots.
We then took the El downtown and began searching for the bar we were to meet her friends at. On the way there, some preppy looking guy made silly faces at me and made some prince of darkness comment. God, it's scary how tempting it was to punch him in the face. He was with a lot of friends, though, so it's probably wise that I didn't. But we arrived at the bar. I got a bad impression of the place right away. There were several limos out front. Inside I was confronted with evidence that the fact that white people are able to reproduce is a miracle. The place was so Notre Dame. So after a while, Cari and I ditched her friend in search of something more 'our scene.'
The first place, a bar we'd been in before, denied us access because Cari's ID is expired. Boo. So we found another place with pool tables. At first it seemed perfect. Very shady. Good music playing. And a couple cute punk girls playing pool. But due to some drunk jackass, it took forever for us to get a turn at the table, and then before we even finished our game, a bouncer threw us out, and it had only been like ten minutes since last call. Boo.
And then the damn El was already closed down. Boo again. So after a commando raid on a comfort inn to use their bathrooms, we walked around until we found another station at which we realized that there was a bus running. So we managed to get home. Except I was completely sober, due to the poor quality of the bars we went to, so it would have been easier to just drive. Which is what we then did. We drove back into downtown to get food. We're such crazy kids.
Why did I bother to cover last night in such exquisite detail? Because I felt like it. I want everyone to know that even I have trouble finding a good night on the town sometimes. Ain't nobody perfect. That, and a reminder to us all: shady bars are, as a rule of thumb, much more fun than trendy clubs. Speaking of the stupid trendy club, at one point they convinced several girls to get up on the bar and dance. Of the dozen or so that made it up, I'd say two of them had any concept of what it means to dance. But more fun was the sixtyish year old guy standing near me and the way he was staring at those girls. Shady! At least they had some fox police chase video show on TV at the club.
Today, after a bunch of supah-lazy doing nothing, I went on a Philadelphia driving adventure. I didn't make it too far, but at least I think I now have some idea of how this neighborhood works. And now I know I can find I-95 on my own. So there.