Friday Night

So here's a little bit of a story.

Went out on Friday to a bar, as I do on occasion. I do this solo, because it's literally me heading out to have 2-3 beers/ciders and watch some sports on the TV. To me, this is incredibly boring, but I don't have cable anymore, and the alternative is staying at home, sitting around, looking around. So really it's a treat to me.

ANYWAY. I went out and met the fellow pictured above. Apparently he is in a management position at a social club based at one of the Universities around here. Pretty snappy dresser, eh? Yeah, he was pretty krunk. So at eventually he looks over at me and tells me his name and about his job and whatnot. I thought I'd be nice and have some conversation with this guy. No big deal, right? So I'm talking to him and he suddenly goes "Okay... I'm a pretty big geek, and this is really difficult, you know? Meeting people? I don't really do it." I said I didn't mind, and he started on about how he's really into the universe and was talking about how quantum mechanics is a frustrating thing, because even if you think you know something, you can never actually see if you are correct.

So he's starting to get energetic, and he's looking to jump over to another bar downtown when his lady-friend comes to see what he's upto. Remember how he was dressy? This lady dressed casual. Like really casual. 70% Thug, even! He turns to her and she makes a little surprised face after looking at him. Then he says to her "This is my friend. This is hard for me," to which she replies "It's okay. You're a geek, but that's fine! You're a cool interesting guy. Now let's get going to Masq." She had a pretty supportive, reassuring tone. I was a little confused and asked how they knew each other: *Awkward pause*. I asked if they worked together: *Uproarious laughter from both*. Then he leans in and says: "We fuck together." I said "ohhhhhhhhh-okay," as though I'm used to hearing this kind of thing. The lady then, still laughing a little, leans in and says, "You know, you should come with us. My girls will be there. I'm sure you'll be able to hit it off with one of them." She told me they had been up at the Marylin Manson concert early to "see what they could get" but then planned to hit this Masq place. I asked her if she was comfortable having her girls go to MM alone. She laughed a bit again, like I was the only one not privy to an inside joke. She said "Oh, they're not my kids. They're my girls. Like my girls..."

So really... I think I may have met a prostitute on Friday. Your thoughts?

I got back a little later than I wanted. I was nice and drunk tho and decided to have a smoke. Often when I'm drunk, I look across the street and see this house. More than any other house I've known, this house makes me think of a giant, smiling head. I sometimes say to myself "Come on, you're being silly... it's not like it's going to eat you." Then another part of me thinks, "Are you nuts? That's precisely what the house wants you to think! Then when you least expect it, it's gonna gobble you up!"

Needless to say, I don't walk on that side of the street. Ever. In mental health, we call this a delusion. I on the other hand call it prudent thinking.