Thursday, July 15, 2004

Who the fuck celebrates Bastille Day?

Last night was a night out in honor of French independence, I guess. Leaving work, I had no clue that it was Bastille day. BTW, bastille day = reason for lame people to go out after work and get drunk. So there we were, sitting in the irish bank alley with urine–shit stench and homeless b.o. in the air, euro/techo/house/neverending music at full volume, surrounded by everyone from suits to gay latin men wearing Gucci sunglasses*** To say the least, it was perfect. The group of suits, once drunk enough to have more to talk about than business, started to awkwardly dance and/or sing along to Michael Jackson while others pounded Coronas. That may be what I was confused by the most, the Coronas. Stella was on special. WTF. then came “the hot girls.” Just picture the slow-mo scene in mean girls when they are walking down the hall at school, just before kadie (Lindsey) falls into the garbage can, but picture them as 27 years olds. And instead of a school hall, picture a crowded alley filled with bastille day excitement. Unfortunately they didn’t want anything to do with us. But then again, they didn’t see us, we didn’t try to talk to them, and they came with a group of guys. I could start talking about the 45 year old and her two gay friends that we were talking to…oh, and her friend that I thought was her mom (are you her mom?), but my story telling would not do it justice. So I need to quit while I’m ahead. Good times. Go bastille day. and dammit, i missed the simple life.

***Please note: it was 9 pm and dark