October 1, 2006

  • The other night, I went and watched Idiocracy.  I swear to you that I am dumber for having seen it.  I mean, it doesn't actually do any work to be a comedy.  No real jokes are told.  It just kind of does stuff.  I pretty much just relaxed my brain, and the whole thing became funnier.  Don't get me wrong, there are some funny quotes, But Clerks II is a much funnier movie.


    Meanwhile, it's the end of the Fiscal Year, and I feel really happy.  Work should slow down greatly.  I haven't been to the gym in a month.  I still work out, but I just miss the gym. 


    On another note, Dave and I will be making a return to Liverpool.  However, before that happens, I would like to finish off the stories of my last trip, so I may strip things down a bit, since it's been such a long time. 


    Liverpool, Part 4:


    After a relaxing nap, Dave and I decide to hit the town and test out some of the new clothing that we bought.  Dave had just purchased a brown jacket, somewhat like a sports jacket or something.  I had new shirts.  Once we're dressed, Dave asks for my opinion.


    "It's good, but maybe a bit too good.  You look like something pulled out of the clothing advice section of Men's Health."


    Dave DID NOT like my critique.  I think he gave me and F.  And a U.  Anyway, we head out, but it's a bit early (more on this later).  We head to a bar called Revolution, which is a Vodka bar, and relax for a bit.  At around 9, women start coming in in large numbers.  Apparently, that weekend was a good one to have a bachelorette party (they call it a hen party).    I don't know what happened, but to kill time we start talking to a group of guys next to us, who appear to be on some type of guys night out, which makes sense since half of them are married.


    Anyway, at some point, Dave starts talking to this woman in a red dress that had come in with a group of girls.  Actually, I think she started talking to him.  Either way, Dave was doing some group breaking work.  The woman was a little older than us, probably in her 30's, but very well put together.  They're hitting it off, things are going well, and I'm wing-manning the rest of the group.  Then at some point the Guinness from earlier hits, so I excuse myself and decide to make a quick trip to the bathroom.  I'm gone for maybe a minute, when as I'm walking out, Dave is walking in:


    me:  What the...
    Dave:  I f**ked up.
    me:  How?
    Dave:  I don't know.  They were just going to another bar.
    Me:  Did you ask where they were going.


    I probably don't need to continue telling you the convo.  However, before we continue, you should become acquainted with the term "cougar".  Additional info.


    We're back in the bar, decide that things are kind of dead, and head for new surroundings.  The next bar was ok, and right after we walked in, a different hen party walked in.  It's time for me to go to work.


    Me: (turning to the group) So, who's the lucky girl?
    Them: She is (pointing at the girl).
    me: awesome.  (holds up hand for a high 5.  Receives high 5 from bride to be).


    You may think it's cheesy, but when you're trying to meet people in this atmosphere, with the type of group that they're in, nonaggressive is the way to go.  Hugs and stuff would have been too creepy, in my opinion. 


    I'm talking to one of them when Dave calls to me and says "Pat, this is all you."  He's pointing at a list that the girls have with them, which consists of things that the bride to be (BTB) needs to complete.  He's pointing at the one marked "Get one set of men's boxers."  Damn you Dave, I have a hunch that you're wearing boxers, also.  A short trip to the mens room and 2 minutes later, I am going commando.   Unfortunately, that night I had decided to wear my black Under Armour boxer briefs, which are the ones that I like the most.  Liked the most.  Who knows where they are now.


    From within the group, Dave is again picked out by an older woman, this time in her late 30's.  For the remainder of the night, they would be inseparable.  Meanwhile, I would be having fun with the rest of the group (I deserve a wingman trophy).  HOURS later, Dave has disappeared, and about 45 minutes after he's gone, I decide to venture out on my own.  I'm not in the best of moods, because I had to wingman forever, and it's so late in the night that there's not much to do.  We're way past that point where normal people are establishing normal conversational bonds.  I found my was to the Heebie Jeebie (see previously), but it was very crowded, and the girl wasn't in sight. 


    Essentially defeated, I decided to call it a night.  En route to finding a cab, I had plenty of entertainment.  I walked past a guy and girl who appeared to be breaking up and were in a yelling match.  It was made all the more entertaining by their accents.  10 minutes later, I would walk back by the same spot to find the guy basically crying on the shoulder of one of his buddies.  The things alcohol does to a person...  When I found a good spot to wait for a cab, I ended up talking with a girl who was not only drunk, but believed that "40 Year Old Virgin" was the funniest movie ever.  After going back and forth with quotes for a few minutes, I eventually hopped a cab, went back to my room, and passed out.


    Around 1100 the next morning, Dave walked in. 


    Me:  Well look who's back.  What happened?
    Dave:  Man, I don't want to f**king talk about it. 


    And with that, he climbed into his bed and fell asleep (Don't worry, you'll get the story later).  I also went back to sleep for a few hours.  Later that afternoon, we would both venture out on our own to see the city. 


    Black 6, out.

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