So the other night was my friend's birthday party. She was turning 18, so of course, the plan was to start off at Hooters (because there are boobs there) and then do everything possible to get carded as many times as could possibly be imagined by the human brain.
So, my other friend, who had graduated high school in the same class as me, picked me up around nine something in the evening. We had a nice conversation, we talked about lots of stuff, as this friend and I usually do, and her car had something wrong with it, as her car always does.
So we get to Hooters and find my friend's table. And we're sitting there with several people that I've never met, and I'm assuming that neither Friend#2 or Friend#3 (who had followed our car to the restaurant).
I was enthralled for what was apparently a very long time by the basketball game on the television directly beside our table (why? I have no idea. I'm not a sports person at all.) Several minutes later I came to from what had apparently been a loose-understanding-of-sports-induced trance to...well, it's very difficult to describe in words....
It would be beneficial to the story to inform the reader that I am bisexual. Notice how the "bi" prefix is not spelled h-o-m-o. Most of my friends have this bad habit of assuming I'm flat out gay. I feel like when I say I like a girl, many of them process it in their brains as "Oh, he's become so gay he's looped back around to straight." (thank you Will and Grace...which doesn't help my argument...) or "Oh, he's going through a crisis and thinks he likes girls. Let me try to be supportive."
So, at this point, I've determined that Birthday Girl has informed all her friends that I'm 100% gay. I don't really mind this assumption, because it's a pretty easy one to make, but....Birthday Girl knows me...so naturally I attempted to beam my feelings into her head.
I'm not positive that my mutant powers of telepathy were working that day, but either way the constant subtle references to my sexuality subsided before long (or perhaps I just tuned them out.)
I could waste time drawing pictures of hooters girls and birthday-hula-hooping...but I won't. There was birthday-hula-hooping. Imagine it. Move on.
So all the people I don't know left, and we went out to the parking lot to wait for Friend 4 and Friend 5....okay, I'm assigning names to these people right now
Birthday Girl: Jazzy
Friend # 2: Tami
Friend # 3: Tod
Friend # 4: Carrie
Friend # 5: Annette
Now, back on topic.
We met up with Carrie and Annette, and we decided to hit Sixth Street, which is a big deal in Austin.
Our first priority was to find a tattoo shop, because Jazzy wanted to get a tattoo RIGHT THEN, and I was thinking there was no way that would happen realistically...but I wanted her to have a good time, and I might have been mauled for being a buzzkill.
The first shop we arrived at was very reminiscent of the tattoo shop that I got two of my tattoos from except it… It was a lot more not good.I mean not to say it was a bad tattoo shop mean it looked fine enough it's just that you know it it kind of pales in comparison to the one… Okay I'm going off in the tenant again so I'm you get back on topic.
So really, the first shop we went to was extravagantly designed and it was a totally up to standard tattoo shop but I like the other one better and that's all I'm gonna say about it. Anyway Jazzy went up to the counter to talk to the cashier or whoever the hell it was, meanwhile Tod and I were looking at the flash art. I quickly thumbed through all the pages just kind of looking for anything that caught my eye, when I saw this awesome Jesus tattoo… Only in my mind it wasn't Jesus, it was Merlin. So, I motion to Tod, who of course had no idea why I would be motioning to him. Sometimes I feel like Tod has no idea what's going on at any time ever. So it took way longer than it should have to get Tod's attention and get him to realize what I was trying to say which was "hey Tod get your ass over here so I can show you something."
Tod made his way over to me by the flash art, and proceeded to be all like “WHAT?” And I was like "Dude, see that Jesus tattoo right there? Now, instead of Jesus, what if that were Merlin, and the Sacred Heart were like a crystal ball or Excalibur or something?” And he became all wide-eyed and was like "Dude, that's the best tattoo ever."
So then we went to this other tattoo shop. It seemed nice enough, I liked it. Of course I didn't pay attention to what Jazzy, Carrie and Annette and all those other guys were doing because I was looking at the awesome flash art. From there the story is basically the same except replace "Jesus" with "dagger" and "Merlin" with "I need it".
After we gave up on the tattoo and Jazzy bought a cigar, we decided to go clubbing…or rather, Jazzy decided to go clubbing, and it was her birthday. I was well aware that most of my kind of club (or what I assume is my kind of club) is 21 and up, and being various shades of 18-19, we would not be going to any of them, so I tagged along, sulking on the inside.
We went to some god-awful club with the worst crowd of people I could possibly have imagined…the actual interior was great, the design was great…but the music was less than what I consider to be enjoyable, and the crowd was basically a menagerie of Mexican stereotypes (as a British Mutt By Way of Texas/Mexican half breed, I take offense to people who blatantly decide to promote the negative stereotypes that plague the Mexican community. Many people would argue that I don’t fit into this category because my grandparents are successful and stuff...OFF TOPIC) …MENAGERIE OF MEXICAN STEREOTYPES. MOVING ON.
I spent about 20 minutes of our time there antagonizing Tod in various fashions, and then I conceded and agreed to hold the bags when I was given baleful Carrie eyes for being a buzzkill.
Then for the next eight trillion years I sat at a table texting my gay (100%) friend about how I wished we were at a Gay club and how the club we were at was super gross.
Then Tami was molested by some nasty old creeper’s boner tent, so we left. I was glad we were leaving. A) because I didn’t want Tami to have to stay in the same club with the Boner-Tent-Molester and B) because that club was absolutely nastacious.
So we were walking about, I was talking with Tod about how I was running out of money for the night, and then we ended up at a gay club.
I was filled with excitement. I was positive that I would be able to have fun.
Then, as the bouncers checked our IDs and branded us all with blue wristbands reading MINOR, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed that I my hair, which I had worked so hard on earlier that evening, was terrible, and then because of this I was fat and ugly.
I was instructed by Carrie to “hit on gay guys”…but really I just sulked in the corner. Tod joined me at my table and we determined that I was having a psychological meltdown.
Tod was very supportive. It reminded me that Tod and I are actually much better friends than we act like in public. At one point he fetched water for me because I was putting on some unnecessary theatrics about being too depressed to move.
However him leaving me alone allowed my condition to worsen.
I knew intellectually that no guys were hitting on me because I was A) radiating an air of low self esteem and B) because I was talking with Tod, which made me appear unavailable, but emotionally it was because I’m fat, ugly, my hair is bad, and my soul smells.
…I don’t have a real ending for this blog… I feel like it was going somewhere…and then it just kind of died. So I’ll end with this: It was actually a pretty good night because Jazzy had a lot of fun, and Tami took me to get a “medium” cherry sprite at Jack in the Box.
Seriously, I felt like it was going to eat me…