Sam-a-rama!

"Say, does this look funny to you?"

Sunday, November 12, 2006

Panic At The Disco

When your between the ages of 18 to 35, the time to spend on a night out begins at 10 pm and ends when you feel like it. After 35 however, "when you feel like it" gets shorter and shorter. By the time you are forty, it turns into "It's too damn loud and my feet hurt, so I'm going home". That's how it was for me on Friday night when after a long day from work, I decided that I'm done for the day and time to celebrate that which is satellite tv, as I pay to watch it and I want to enjoy what I paid for. However, one of my friends at work Damien yells at me, calls me a Sissy Mary and tells me that I need to get my fat butt out and have a good time. Do you have that at work too? You know, the one guy who says that you need to get out of the house and go do something stupid, when you know nothing good will come from it? This is why there's so many office shootings.

After going through a Ferris Bueller/Cameron moment ("I'll go, I'll go, I'll go...."), I went home changed into Sam Action clothes tm and went out for what I hoped would be some fun around 11 pm. During my drinking days, it was no problem go out that late for booze and broads. Now that I don't drink anymore, the desire to go out has diminished a lot. After dialysis, I'm too beatdown for anything, so this was going to epic moment for me. Brief, but epic.

So, I get a somewhat good parking space for a Friday night in Downtown Savannah and make my way to the club where Damien's broadcasting live from. For those of you who don't get the chance to go to one of these places anymore, let me clue you in: The beats are harder, the women are sluttier and all the men dress like Kevin Federline. In fact, there were loads of K-Feds in this place. Caps on sideways with the stickers still on it, baggy clothes, stupid looks. This would be the place if Britney would go if she decided to go on the rebound. I just sat back in the V.I.P. lounge and watched for nearly two hours chicks on stripper poles and guys trying to look up their dresses. Maybe I'm geting old and all and there's a sort of parental part growing inside of me since I don't have kids, but if that my daughter on one of those poles and I saw some G-Unit wannabe from the suburbs staring at my kid like that, there would be club violence going on not seen since the Vibe Award Uprising of '03. It was too much for me now and I couldn't wait for Damien to be done so I could get that bass out of my head.

When he was done, I knew that I had to clear my head and there was no other place for me to go to than my old stomping grounds of The Mercury Lounge. When I was there, it was home and the bartenders where my brothers in booze. It felt like old times going in to se the saem guys behind the bar slinging drinks. I walked up to 'em, gave big guy hugs and we went back to the good old days again, even if it was only no more than three years ago, but they were the best times for me. I sat in my old spot and the boys got me my usual after I started dialysis, a cranberry juice with a splash of tonic in a pint glass. It worked for me everytime as everyone thought that since I knew the guys there so well, they were fixing up fo me the best drink in the world and everyone wanted to know what I had. Trust me, if you have a favorite bar somewhere and you don't drink anymore, try this sometimes. You'll be the star of the moment. Then sit back and just watch the folks line up.

One thing I that I did notice changing spots was the music, of course. THis time I was surrounded by a four piece blues band that was playing a great set and there were couples dancing along to the music. The difference between the guys dancing there and the other place was that the guys were over forty. Otherwise, it was the same thing. They couldn't dance for jack. In fact, these guys were worse then the younger ones. One guy looked like Albert Finney after a bender and danced like Michigan J. Frog on a hotplate, bless his heart. Thank God The Mercury doesn't have stripper poles.

After an hour of this, I began to see it was two in the morning and it was way past my bedtime, so I thanked the guys and called it an night. It was good to see them again, but my body was telling me that I've become the fuddyduddy that I always railed against and it was time to end the ideas closing down the bar. But it's good to have those memories to go back to so one day I can go back and tell my own kids about one day when I do become a dad. Also, I'll have to remind my daughters to stay off the poles.

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