I've been doing more writing, hence I only went out three nights last week...
Went to Sergeant Major’s (a drinking establishment that honors law enforcement and the military). The woman managing the bar jukeboxed a song called “Arlington” and told everyone to be quiet and listen to the lyrics. The ethereal quasi-punk girl next to me broke into tears. The bar manger took a drag and announced, “It’s the song”. Everyone listened in silence, heads down, soaking up the lyrics. Afterwards a more upbeat song came on. The quasi-punk girl wiped away her tears and orchestrated the bar manger's two young daughters to sandwich her. The three of the them danced tightly pressed together in a Lynchian unison. I just watched.
Didn't want to go out, but I could hear a band play from the Ponderosa Saloon so I walked down to check them out. I said hi to the regulars and had a seat. During "Radar Love" a cute brunette in black high heel boots sat down, asked if I had a girlfriend and checked my hand for one of those lifelong commitment rings. We hung out till morning. She works at a nearby jail as a deputy, likes to sing country, drives a Ridgeline and leans towards the deviant
Drank lots of beer and scotch at the Brass Rail while listening to karaoke (I don't sing - haven't since I butchered "Caribbean Queen" Thanksgiving Eve 2007). As the bar closed a biker with a Fu Manchu asked me if I would go to his hotel room and "knock the bottom" out of his wife. "She's on the heavy side, but she's really sexy", he said. Maybe if I hadn't met the cute deputy the night before I would have considered the auspicious offer. But I passed and walked to the Twain where I struck up a conversation with two attractive early forty-somethings. Things were going well until the one I liked - think Lucy Lawles with lots of belly jewelry - saw that they had pickled eggs. The bartneder fished one out and put it on a paper plate. After her and her friend had a bite, she offered it to me. I said no thank you. My preserved ovo refusal bothered the shit out of her. "As a writer you need to experience this," she said. I asked for a reward and she offered me an "open mouth kiss", which suddenly seemed less than desirable while thinking about her pickled egg saliva. I decided to put my stomach first, and left without the kiss (actually I got one on the cheek from both of them).