Hello.
I had a weekend of fantastic things. I don’t mean ‘fantastic’ like I met a girl and my life changed, but more of an enchanted type of fantastic. It started Friday night when I went to Citywalk. I saw a couple of things there that kicked off my weekend of fantastic.
Friday night I met my friend Lesley and some of her friends at Citywalk in that upstairs bar with the weird jungle motif. That bar is like someone hit up the leopard print clearance aisle at Hobby Lobby and said “Hell. Let’s make us a bar!” I doubt such an aisle has ever existed though.
So now it was time for fantastic thing one of the weekend. I’m not sure which one of Lesley’s friends ordered this particular shot, but it may have been one of the most elaborate shots I’ve ever seen. The bartender set up five regular glasses in a row, all equally spaced about an inch apart, and then set shot glasses on top of the spaces between the regular sized glasses. The regular glasses were filled with god knows what and the shot glasses were filled with what I’m pretty sure was something disgusting if only because it was flammable. The bartender took a swig from a bottle to where he had a mouthful of liquor. He then held a lighter in front of his mouth and spit a huge cloud of flame at the glasses. The shot glasses were set ablaze. He then took his hand and tipped every shot glass into one of the larger glasses thus extinguishing the flames with the liquid from the larger glasses. Then Lesley’s friends drank up.
It was a decent display of fire breathing bartending, as far as fire breathing bartending goes, but being the person I am, I couldn’t help but think one thing. That bartender just spit all over their drinks. I mean I get that it’s alcohol fire but still, it kind of grossed me out.
So that was mildly fantastic. Then I saw something that was way more of a fantastic thing. “A woman at Citywalk with real breasts and a charming personality who wasn’t drinking like a wino?” No. Better.
My friend Greg and I were over by the karaoke bar in Citywalk. I have a friend who is almost always in there and I wanted to see if he was there. He wasn’t but what was in there was a dwarf singing karaoke. Now, I do know it’s not nice to make fun of anyone based on how they look, and it wasn’t so much that as it was a DWARF SINGING KARAOKE. Greg and I just stood there and Greg turned at looked at me in disbelief and said “That is a real thing. What we are seeing is real.” It was a bit overwhelming. Don’t judge me either. I mean when was the last time you were caught off guard by a karaoke singing dwarf? That’s what I thought. You don’t know how you’d react.
So a fire breathing bartender and a singing dwarf are hardly enough to warrant a fantastic weekend. What follows does though.
Saturday I went to Purely Sinful, which is the artist formerly knows as Pure, with my friend B Mac and some of his friends. We got there pretty early, before it started getting crowded. We were in the back of the club so we could see the entire dance floor. No one was on it yet as it was early. That’s when we saw him. A man who rivals many in this life I have seen that have made me laugh uncontrollably in wonderment at the utter clueless nature of some people.
We saw a guy standing at the edge of the dance floor who was in his mid-forties. He was wearing a skin tight white shirt, ever tighter jeans and a pair of cowboy boots with silver tips on them. He was built like a former male stripper, or a really mediocre current one. He looked like he had been tanning for a year. The best part of this whole debacle? He had greasy curly hair down to the middle of his back just like Jean Claude Van Damme did in Hard Target. We kept calling him Van Damme all night.
Here is where this tale of stupidity gets even more fantastic. He started dancing. It was some sort of weird Latin fused with Jazz Hands style of dancing. It was as though he had mastered the worst elements of every style of dance and incorporated them all into one fantastic display of crap dancing. It was truly a marvel.
As the night progressed, and the club kept getting more and more crowded, he made his way to one of the stages, which just so happened to be near our table. That’s when we noticed the pencil thin moustache he was sporting. This guy thought he was the sexiest being on the planet. He even motioned, unsuccessfully, for women to join him on the stage to dance with him. At no time did he stop dancing. Even when he would leave to go get a drink, he would dance his way to the bar. I can’t decide if that’s because he was on something or that his passion for dance was uncontrollable.
At one point he did take a small break and he put his drink down on our table. He left it there and went back to dance. One of the girls who was with us had his drink right in front of her. I told her to be careful and not drink out of it otherwise she might catch sexy. To be a smart ass, she did. Well at this point Van Damme saw her and without stopping his weird dancing he whistled loudly at her to get her attention. She turned around and he wagged his finger at her as if to say “Do not drink from the cup my love, for it is too much sexy for you to handle.” I’m pretty sure sexy means cocaine in this instance.
As though all of that wasn’t enough, he was wearing rosary beads. There would be times where in the middle of his dancing he would make the sign of the cross, kiss the cross on his rosary and look to the ceiling as though he was thanking Christ himself for his being blessed with such ‘sexiness’.
What I thought was funny is that he left his house looking like he did. He really thought he looked good. I know that he stood in front of his giant mirror and slapped on a gallon of Brut, put a whole bottle of gel in his hair, trimmed his ‘super sexy’ moustache, and walked out the door. I’m not sure but I’m pretty confident in assuming that he drove a ‘super sexy’ van with black fur interior and a statue of Mary on his dash next to a tiny crown air freshener. Mary is on a swiveling platform though so he can face her the other way when he is making love to a lady so as not to shame Mary. I’m also willing to bet he has a mirror on the ceiling of his van. His van probably has his last name in royal lettering on the back right over an elaborate painting of a naked lady next to a lake where deer are drinking.
No one in our group could believe that we were witnessing such a thing. It was like seeing something you subconsciously knew existed in some realm of reality, but to witness it first hand was something that I cannot truly explain.
A couple of people with us had camera and video phones so if I get a hold of that footage, I will post it for all to see because I know that my words cannot do this justice.
That’s all I got. A fire breathing bartender, a singing dwarf, and a middle aged sex machine. That’s quite a bit for now I feel. Take a break. You’ve earned it.
RIGHT NOW
SONG – Steam by Peter Gabriel. I wish I had a good reason other than that it’s good. Sorry I’m not more in depth than that.
MOVIE – The Incredibles. One of my favorite movies. It’s hilarious. Not as funny as a dancing freak, but pretty close.
Holla.
- Joel David
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