I reviewed one of my favorite Goosebumps books as a kid, One Day In Horrorland, over at Childhood Trauma. Plus I finally stopped being lazy and made a facebook page for CT here. So go like it and make us feel like we aren't just writing to ourselves! (Not that it would stop us.) Be on the lookout for a guest posting week coming soon!
After we left the house party, we headed to downtown Shreveport to go bar hopping. Going drinking downtown on any given Friday or Saturday night will give you the joy of seeing plenty of super attractive people walking the streets.
|Oh hai. We jerk each other off, but we're totally not gay.|
They also seemed to coordinate their pick-up lines. I have been very sheltered from the creepy-guys-in-bars scene, thanks to the fact that I was engaged at the ripe old age of 20. But Jesus Effing Christ, if I had a nickel for every time a guy asked me and my friends, "So..... are you from around here?" I would probably be able to afford one Affliction shirt. (That's a lot of nickels, yo.)
As we were being accosted by yet another douchey doucheface, I saw a light of hope across the room. One of the most beautiful things I've ever seen in a bar. The moment it came into my line of vision, I knew I would be able to make it through the night.
Y'all. It was a motherfucking visor.
This may seem like something I shouldn't have been quite so excited about, but let me remind you that I was stuck downtown with an army of douches looking at me like I was Miley Cyrus on her 18th birthday. That visor was my savior for the night. And I absolutely would not rest until I tracked down the man who was wearing it and made fun of him properly.
Luckily, I didn't have to wait long.
VisorDouche probably felt the power of my OH NO HE DIDN'T eyes from across the bar, because less than five minutes later, he was all up in our bidness. He walked up to our group of girls and said (of course), "So, are you guys from around here?"
Me: (Interrupting my friends) Yes, and THAT IS A SWEET ASS VISOR, SIR.
VisorDouche: Really? I was thinking it might be kind of lame to wear downtown.
Me: AHA! Uh, no. Definitely not. That is the most amazing thing I've seen all night. Please wear that for the rest of your life. Actually, you should probably be buried in it.
I was met with this blank stare from men for the majority of the night, which was honestly the only thing that kept me from gauging my eyes out with a spoon or drinking an entire bottle of Tequila to hopefully black out and forget where I was. Almost every guy that hit on us ended up telling my friends, "Wow, this one is a smart ass, huh?" while they pointed their thumb in my direction.
I was making fun of a new person when one of my girlfriends walked up and said, "Hey, everyone wants to go to Phoenix Underground! Let's leave now!"
Me: Phoenix? We're going to...... Phoenix?
|"Please, dear God, don't make me go there."|
I tried to get out of going, but these girls were relentless.
Me: But there's a dress code, and I'm wearing flip flops...
Girlfriend #1: We're a bunch of hot girls! They'll totally let us in.
Me: But I don't have any cash to pay the cover...
Girlfriend #2: I'll get you, girl! Don't worry about it!
Me: But I.... uh, need to.... wash my hair?
Unfortunately, it was a losing battle and within minutes, we were on our way to Phoenix Doucherground. As we got in the elevator to head down to the club, I decided being roofied really wouldn't be that bad. At least I wouldn't have to remember this awful place in the morning?
I went to the bar with one of the girls, because I wasn't quite drunk enough to be humped by a bunch of guys I didn't know on the dance floor. My friend and I were talking/yelling at each other when the Hand Clap started playing through the speakers.
Me: Ohmygod, I love this song! And I totally know the dance moves!
I started dancing a little AT (not on) the bar, while I smoked a cigarette and talked to my friend. Next thing I know, someone walks up behind me and literally starts humping me.
You know when a dog is trying to hump your leg, and it wraps its front two legs around your calf and holds on as tight as it can with super human dog strength and you're kicking and yelling and slamming said dog against a door and absolutely nothing will get it to leave you alone?
Yeah, that's pretty much how I would describe this experience. It became a familiar cycle by the end of the night, and I got so used to it that I forgot it was ever weird in the first place.
- Stand still at the bar
- Start shaking your hips slightly at the bar
- Have a drunk creepy guy in a polo shirt hump you
- Turn around, shoo him away, stop dancing
- Repeat five minutes later
Around the time I wanted to leave, some more douchey guys were hitting on one of my friends and asked us if we wanted to take shots of whatever the hell they had in their VIP section.
Aside: The VIP section was filled with mattresses. That's it. Just mattresses. I knew I wasn't drunk enough to be in this situation because my only thought was, "OH EW. How many germs are on these beds? I'll be over here letting this guy hump me because even that seems more sanitary than this shit, thanks."
I finally started texting Andy to please, dear God, for the love of all that is holy, in baby Jesus' name, please come save me and get me out of here and also, could you shave off my entire top layer of skin when we get home because I'm pretty sure that's the only way I'm going to get the eternal smell of douche off of me.
Right when I started rejoicing because Andy was on his way, one of the douches spilled, nay, POURED his entire goddamn drink in my lap. As the anger that I had been feeling all night started rising to the surface, threatening to burst out of me and devour all these awful, disgusting guys, I said through clenched teeth, "We. Need. To. Go."
I started getting the few remaining girls together and was waiting for a friend to come out of the bathroom when one of the douches who practically shoved shots down my friends' throats came up to me.
Douche: You know.... we did just buy you guys like five drinks, and you're just gonna leave like that?
What I said: Whatthefuck?
Luckily, at that moment, Andy let me know he was outside waiting for us, and I was able to exit that hellhole and never look back.
At least until the next Girls Night when I'll be forced to relive it all over again.
Uh, guys? I'll be washing my hair for the next four months.