I went out boozing this weekend. It started at The Ginger Man, despite my requests to go to Trinity Hall Irish Pub. At this point, you are probably wondering how this evening could possibly end with me venting. Well, The Ginger Man is a bar I like, but do not love. You are a beer place, and that's cool, but sometimes I want an Irish Car Bomb, and you don't serve liquor and thus can't make it. Perhaps I've just watched The Big Labowski and want a "caucasian", again, you can't make it. I don't like bumping shoulders to get a spot at the bar to order a beer because there's people sitting at the bar, either not drinking at all, or "enjoying" a BMC light. make the beast with two backs you, you are in the way, gtfo. I go from mildly amused to frustrated to amused throughout my time at this bar.
Then some idiot in my party suggests, lets go to another bar. Why? if you like another bar better, we should have gone there to begin with. (I'm not a bar hopper, unless there's reasons to go from one bar to another. Example of such a case: having a beer while you listen to the band in a 'honky-tonk' that's located in a row of 'honky-tonks' each with different bands). Which bar does this cretin pick? Sfuzzi's. Sweet, the B-team from Jersey Shore would almost undoubtedly name this their bar of choice. I'm about ready to American History X curb stomp myself but I can't figure out how to get my foot on top of my head while my face is on the curb.
So we arrive at this place. The "shiny shirt" bar of shiny shirt bars. Step 1: Make room for liquor, so I head to the bathroom to 'drain'. WTF, a line at the guys bathroom. I'm ready to write my congressmen a strong letter about this situation about the time I see why there's a line. There's two stand-ups, and a single stall. Sweet - three people in legitimate places to pee, and the sink is still available for emergencies. That's a solid 3-4 people in and out with regularity. But no, the whoriest in the long line of over makeuped bimbos waiting for the women's bathroom are jumping ship to run into the mens room to go to the bathroom. Worse yet, these idiots in the line in front of me are so drunk, they've decided letting them cut in line will somehow aid their chances in bedding these classy, classy ladies at closing time.
I deeply regretted not getting a drink at the bar to help pass the time while I waited to go to the bathroom. When it was at last my turn, I seriously considered standing at the urinal facing the wrong way, and just going all over the floor to help facilitate some Darwinism in the bathroom viz a viz the Schlip un Faul. I chose the prudent, albeit less rewarding path of doing my business as normal.
Next up, I set a short-term goal of finding my party, and a long-term goal of ordering a beverage. Halfway to the front of the bar, swimming through the crowd some guy thinks its a great idea to rub my cheek with his hand. Would I be flattered if he had been gay? No, that's my face, which resides deep within my "personal space" and its never a great idea, but it would have been at least mitigated in its offense had it been a male who was trying to flatter me. This is some gaunt, Affliction-wearing, hipster that is trying to invoke the wrath of a now fairly sober Irishman. But this scoundrel has managed to reach from behind two women to do such a dastardly deed so I cannot begin the application of swift justice to his face. Nor can I, because of the volume of the music, effect a valid challenging of a duel to the death via pistols at dawn.
I eventually got back to my table and located a friend we'll call "Ryan" (because that's his real name) who was a college football player (tackle) and is enormous. I then warned him that there were face-carressers in the crowd and that he should be on high-alert. The waitress tried to do perform her version of damage control by promptly serving me double gin and tonics, and never letting the glass go empty. Nice attempt, but I am already done with you and your bar.
Places I will not go out drinking at night on the weekend grow in number now:
Sfuzzi
J Blacks
Black Friar
Idle Rich
There, I feel better now that I have vented.
