September 8, 2006

• Before I resume the Liverpool story (which has a video), I wanted to give a quick realtime update.  This morning I had an APFT.  The first event is pushups for 2 minutes.  I need 73 pushups for 100 points in the event, and normally I will knock out the first 65 in the first minute.  About 2 months ago, I got the crazy idea in my head that I wanted to be able to do pushups from a handstand.  Since then, I have only done pushups with my feet elevated, usually a foot off the ground, performing a set of 60 each night.  Today, I got down for the event and started pushing, waiting for the time keeper to call out the 1 minute mark, so I know where I stand.  Somewhere around 65, he hasn't said anything, so I assume that he won't call out until 30 seconds.  As I knock out pushup #80, he yells "one minute".  I decide that I'm done, and get up.

  When we last left our heroes, they were at Concert Square, getting ready to enter a bar.  They have just entered the bar. 

  There's a group of three girls a few feet from us,dancing in a circle.  I notice it because one of them is wearing white pants and has no rhythm.  It was like a strobe light of sorts.  I've gotten a glass of Guiness Extra Cold, so it's something that I'm not inclined to drink quickly.  Right now, it's pretty much time do take a piece of my favorite advice: "Observe your world".  I use this idea in everything, but it's an abstract idea, anyway.  At some point during the night I went to the second floor, and while looking around, I caught some girl eyeing me.  I decided to let it slide. 

  I went back downstairs, where the group of three girls had been.  Apparently, Dave went to talk to them.  One of them was a lawyer, of Iraqi decent, and as opposed to the war.  Dave decided to blow her off.  I chastised him heavily.  I mean, I'm okay with being against the war, and it's great that she had an opinion.  It's not like she was some fanatic with not real view of the world who was getting in his face.  She was an intelligent woman with an opinion.  Damn it Dave.

  Anyway, within the next 30 minutes, I go upstairs again to use the bathroom.  I come out and the girl that was eyeing me earlier is walking with her friend toward the bathroom area.  Her friend goes to the bathroom, so I decide to say hi, as long as we have chance eye contact, and she's literally RIGHT THERE in front of me.

  Me: Hi.
  Her: Hi.
  Me: Are you from around here?
  Her: Yeah.  Where are you from?
  Me: New York.
  Her: Wow, yeah.  I love New York.  (giving me two thumbs up)
  Me: Oh, I'm Pat, by the way. (I like to star the convo, and get it going before I actually give out my name)
  Her: I'm Sam, good to meet you.

  I decide to buy her a drink, and during our conversation, I came to learn that she "loved" a lot of things, like the US, Italy, and most of what I said due to my accent.  I also came to learn that she was quite drunk.  Generally, however, she was quite nice.  Her friend came back, and they were going downstairs, so I guess it was time to collect my wing man.

  I go back downstairs and walk over to Dave,  "That one there is drunk."
  Dave: Which one?
  Me: That one (Making a subtle gesture for him to turn around).

  As he turns around, she turns the bottle of whatever she is drinking, vertical, and we both watch as the thing goes from almost full to empty in seconds.  Dave turns and laughs (either at me or her).  We walk over, and I introduce Dave, and try to get conversation moving within the group, so that he can chat up the boring friend, and I can go dance.  However, I turn for a second, and next thing I know, Dave in on the dance floor, and I'm stuck with the friend, who was quite boring.  I mean, she was cute, but it was as if she didn't want to be out, at all.  During a later convo, Dave stated that he must have gotten a wrong signal, because apparently he would have preferred to be with the boring friend.

  I want to choke Dave.  Some conversations later we decided to check out the club called Mood, which Natalie and Christine recommended, and is right down the block.  We exit the bar and as we walk guess who we run into.  It's Natalie and Christine.  (The next day, Dave would argue that there was no coincidence in this, and that they were stalking us).  We head in and dance and talk for quite a while.  Nothing really noteworthy.  However, it was LOUD.  I mean ears ringing loud.  I looked up, and I'm literally dancing in front of a ceiling mounted speaker.  Reminds me of Spring Break 2003.  Now, some of you would say that ears ringing means that I am damaging my ears, but on my last hearing test, I was able to hear a couple of levels outside of the normal human spectrum, so I think I can afford to lose some.

  After a while Christine suggests that we go to a club called the Funky Box.  Apparently her boyfriend was there.  WTF.  After a bit of a walk there, we arrive outside of the Funky box.  However, I'm apparently not dressed "funky" enough, since I'm not wearing sneakers (or "trainers" as they are called here).  I can think of no other club that encourages sneakers.  Ever.  Anyway, at some point in the conversation he asks me where I'm from, and when told that I'm from America, he asks, "Shouldn't you be in Iraq somewhere?"

  Snobby british cunt.  At that point, I was ready to put his head through a wall.  I've already taken into account that he and the others are wearing gloves, and it's not a cold night, which probably meant that they were loaded.  I could still take them.  I think he got a bit overconfident because I was wearing a jacket, and was wearing my glasses.  I didn't hear anything when my jacket came off.  Meanwhile, one of the girls seems to notice that he's pushed the right button, and decides to intervene.  She basically just asked him to let me in, and he agreed.

  Punk.

  Let me also state that I hadn't had a drink in almost 2 hours.  That is the point where I am most dangerous: the reentrance and the early stages of sobriety.  Normally, I sleep through that phase.  I'm also the type of person who can remember EVERYTHING and hold good conversation, even though I've been drinking.  It's my physical coordination that goes a little off, but it returns quickly with sobriety.

  Once inside, I ask the bartender if she can put my coat behind the bar.  Christine's bf swings by again, and then disappears into the club again.  The girls are doing whatever.  The club wasn't that good, and Dave and I figured that it was time to call it a night.  I go to the bar and grab my jacket, and when I turn around, both girls are standing there with a surprised look on their faces.  "You're leaving?"

  "Yup, we're out."  I think Natalie told me to email her, but I forget. 

  The next day, we wake up around noon, and decide to hit the commercial area.  I break out the video camera for a bit.  However, it seems that Dave was bent on ruining each piece of the video.  In the end of the first three pieces, he does something to screw up an otherwise good video.

   

  When Dave talked about his cigarettes, apparently, one of the girls was holding on to it.  Not only did she smoke a bunch, but she still had the pack when we left.

  To be continued...

  Black 6, out

  • 5:50 am
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