50 Posts Later And It Is My Birfday!

I just had another birthday (read: birfday). It was sort of standard fare. My balls got a little closer to the ground, my hair line moved back a little more and I found that drinking hurts my entire body.

Me and 5 coworkers (4 male, 1 female) went out on the town to celebrate this momentous occasion. They wanted to start at some fancy pants bar in some upscale neighborhood. I went along with this plan for about 3 beers before my need for excitement got the best of me.

Me: Fuck this place, let’s go find a dive bar!

I can only sit at a round, cherry stained natural grain bar table watching the Olympics for so long. I needed parking meter jumping.

We drove to what I guess is called the Gas and Light district. I personally haven’t been to many districts that don’t have light or gas. The place was sort of a concrete courtyard surrounded by hip but skanky/gay bars. My entourage had a hankering to do some mechanical bull riding so we went to a “cowboy” bar. I say “cowboy” with the quotes because it was about as close to ranching as a Korean girl in a bikini and chaps (sadly this imaginary Korean girl was NOT at the bar). I go up to the bar to get one of my many free drinks that I received that night.

Me: I’ll take a beer…

I wasn’t terribly excited about my drink-to-be because the draft options were limited to Bud, Bud Light and Coors Light.

Bartender: Just any beer?

Me: Ya…

Sweet baby jebus did I hit the jackpot! Instead of handing me some shitty beer like a pint of MGD or PBR, he hands me a something far more precious than a gold medal in the summer Olympics. 40ozs of highlife to be exact (plus or minus 0.3%). It was as if my long blond hair acted as some sort of muse for this guy to do the single greatest act of his life.

I wander around the bar that is about 1/3 full while I drink in the sight of a sexy wet little girl (wet t-shirt type, not piss her pants type…but we’ll get to that too) in her skivvies riding the bull in slow motion (I’m not sure if the bull was just moving slow or if my brain was doing me a favor and running the events in slow-mo). About 30 minutes of this sort of thing and then they have a guys’ bull riding contest. The other engineer in the group (real engineer, not a tsaoist engineer), who happens to be a hyper-sensitive male around the age of 28, is wasted and decides that he is going to whoop some ass in the contest. He is an athletic/competitive guy and pretty sure that he is going to win. The judges are 4 super sexy girls in duck skirts (so short you can see their quack), so I give “Engi” some advice.

Me: Take off your shirt for the ride to get some extra points on the scorecard.

Pivotal mistake (the kind that makes you want to rear naked choke somebody…but we’ll get to that).

He walks out to the bull, hops on, rips his shirt off and then tosses it.

Sadly, instead of tossing it at one of the fine ass judges, he looks directly at me and throws the shirt at my chest. I was so effin baffled by this complete lack of awesome sexuality that the shirt just bounced off of me to the ground. When I turn around, my coworker, who happens to be the project lead, is in tears laughing at me. I might as well have had a sign on my chest that read “Ladies, I’ll be your best friend and braid your hair and speak with a lisp.”

We polish off our drinks and head off to the next bar.

My Darby roommate, Engi, the Girl and I are halfway there when we realize that we need to wait for the other guys to close out their tabs. I notice a kid in an Affliction shirt and proceed to inform the group around me that whenever you see someone in an Affliction shirt, you instantly know that they are a total D-Bag/Tool (Try it! It really works).

Darby Roomy: Go use your jiu jitsu on him!

Me: I’d kill him!

Engi: I’ll wrestle with you!

Let me take a second to point out that drunken jiu jitsu is NEVER a good idea. It WILL end badly. It always does.

Me: Word. Let’s go!

We circle around a couple times until I get his wrist. I give him a quick arm pull and have his back in a split second. He’s looking around like a lost child, so I slip in a well placed rear naked choke. He squirms around for a few seconds and then I feel him get that getting all too familiar body movement that says “I’m no longer conscious.”

Darby Roomy: He’s out! Huh huh huh!

As if to prove my point, right at that moment the Affliction D-Bag comes walking by:

D-Bag: That isn’t how you do a rear naked choke. (God I hate those guys)

I quickly set Engi down on the pavement on his back and we watch him do the crazy face/spit breath breathing for about 3 to 5 seconds. The far away look leaves his eyes and he is legit again.

Engi: What happened?

Me: Sorry dude! I choked you OUT.

Engi: How long was I out?

Me: About 5 seconds.

Engi: It felt like 30 minutes. I don’t remember anything.

Me: Do you remember wrestling?

Engi: Ya.

Me: That was 5 seconds ago.

Engi: I WANT TO DO THAT AGAIN! COME ON!

I wasn’t dumb enough to go double or nothing with my drunken luck, and I put the stop to all of the wrestling. Time for the next bar. We had drinking to do.

Side note: I would put a 5 to 1 line on Engi’s cause of death to involve autoerotic asphyxiation and a curtain cord.

The next place was a gay bar, and by gay bar I mean their DJ has never purchased a track (track is what we in the music industry call a song) that was laid down outside of the years 1980-1989. I think I heard every single terrible ‘80s song except YMCA last night. I made the best of it by shakin my groove thang to every track (read: song) like they were playing the 25 Most Played playlist from my iPod.

After failing miserably to get two girls to come hump my legs on the dance floor, I went for a shot of cool air outside. A gay guy decided that I too must be gay because of my incredible dance moves (or he saw my polka dotted toes), and he started to put the moves on me. I figured that this would be a great way to get a free puff of my favorite herbal stimulant.

Me: Do you have any weed?

Guy: No, but do you want to do a line in the bathroom?

Me: Hahaha…I’m probably good without that!

He slapped my ass then ran off into the night. Keev : 1...Sucking Dick In The Bathroom : 0.

We shut that bar down and started to make the drive back home. We were all tanked and really had no idea where the eff we were, but that didn’t stop us from getting there fast. It also didn’t stop us from laughing out farking asses off in the process. Engi, the hyper-sensitive married engineer, took this time to start believing that we were all mad at him and/or thought he was gay. He stared at the door, Girl tried to comfort him and the rest of us laughed and devised a plan to get late night hotdogs.

We finally get to a gas station (Quick Trip…I now love you) and we all run into the place like we were kids running into a candy store for an all night candy shopping spree (read: like drunks running into a gas station for hotdogs at 2:30am).

So I was a little off. All of us except Engi went running into that place. He decided that he was William Clark, and he was going to navigate back to his apartment by foot. Never mind the fact that only the driver had any clue as to where we were.

We get our dogs and stand out front of the place and gorge ourselves. Those meat-tubes in bread were so enjoyable that we didn’t even make much of a fuss when I pointed out that Girl had in fact pissed her pants on the drive to that Wiener Mecca. Mmmm mmm tasty.

Done with those, we all agree: Fuck Engi…we are going home!

Not really sure why, but we stand around in the parking lot of my hotel for quite some time. We shot the shit and conversed in disbelief regarding Engi’s decision making processes. Around 3am one of the guy’s phone starts to ring. Engi is lost (gassspp) and wants a ride.

Me: Well…internet porn isn’t going to masturbate to itself!

I then ran across the parking lot, through the lobby, up the stairs, down the hall, through my suite and onto my bed. I then passed the fuck OUT. In stark contrast to Engi I was out for about 4 hours, but it felt like I was out for 5 seconds. Stupid karma that I don't believe in.