Cast of characters, from left: Russell, St. Aubyn, Danny, Katie "let's call Jim in the 9th inning of a Sox playoff game" Zidon, Alex, myself, and Bergman. Last weekend some of the boys from back in G.F. came down for a couple days; probably the last time we'll be reunited until May, unfortunately. But we made the most of it.
Friday night we started at Johnny's Tavern, where we watched the Yankees lose, Dice-K get knocked around, and some toolshed play SexyBack on the jukebox, then dance in front of the big-screen TV until Bergman shouted, "Hey, J.T., sit the fuck down, we're watching the game!" This guy was sitting at a table with a dude sporting both a Red Sox shirt and an Angel hat. Just to give you an idea about these guys.
We went to Louise's West next, where I was doing a magnificent job of shooting double digits under par in Golden Tee while still watching the Sox come back and tie the game up. My highwire act was a success until the aforementioned call from Katie in OKC, announcing she was coming up the next day. I turn back around to see Danny and Alex jumping around trying to get my attention and pointing at the screen, and then see Manny circling the bases. Fuck.
Now we're all pretty well in the bag, and there's really only place Bergman, Russell, St. Aubyn, and I can go from here: a BYOB strip club called the Outhouse. Until Lane (heavily) recommended this place, I had no idea these things even existed. We grab a 30 pack of Miller Lite at a gas station and head out. Thoughts, quotes, and mini-stories from the club that will severely decrease whatever respect you might have had for me and my friends:
1. If there's a better feeling than strolling into a strip club with a block heater of Miller Lite on your shoulder, plopping it down on a table, tearing it open, leaning back and drinking like you're at a picnic, well, then...I haven't felt it.
2. Any guy who has been to a club knows that a girl will sit on your lap, looking for some dolla dolla bills, but once it is evident you will not be purchasing a dance from her this evening, bam. She's gone. But somehow, this one girl, "Ginger," has been sitting on St. Aubyn's lap for over an hour, with 0 dollars coming out of his pocket. When she finally leaves, we ask St. Aubyn what the hell he told her to stay, and he pulls out this little beauty: "I told her that my girlfriend just died 3 weeks ago, and what I was really looking for was just a little company, and I couldn't imagine a more beautiful girl to talk to than her." Clutch. The kicker: He managed to steal a $20 dollar bill from her G-string while she sat there. Are you kidding? He punched his ticket to Hell that night.
3. Bergman comes to the table talking to a stripper, and this exchange takes place:
Bergman, pointing to me: This is my friend Jim.
Me: What are you doing? Don't tell her my real name, you dipshit.
Bergman: Oh! Uhhh, this is my friend Charlie Conway.
Me: Jesus, man. I told you, never use Charlie Conway. Girls know that one. (to the girl): You know who Charlie Conway is, don't you? Fuckin' Dawson's Creek and shit.
Bergman: Don't worry about it. Strippers don't watch the Mighty Ducks.
Stripper, listening the whole time with a blank look on her face: Are you guys gonna buy a dance, or what's the deal?
And so on and so forth. I almost got the heave-ho because my phone had been blowing up since the Sox game, and I kept on forgetting that I wasn't allowed to answer it or read texties. Apparently my justification to the bouncer of "But Manny hit a walkoff!! It's the ALDS!" was juuust good enough to keep me in the ballgame.
Our gas station trip was also an adventure, but the only really retellable story is where some high school girls were bugging St. Aubyn to buy them beer. At first he played along with it, but once it became evident that they wanted him to not only buy it, but PAY for it too, he then told them that he was a cop. They left tracks leaving the parking lot.
To be honest, it's now almost a week later and some of the other stories from last weekend are either hazy or really, really inappropriate, so I'm gonna leave it at that. If this was a PowerPoint presentation, the main bullet that you should make a note of is: If there is happens to be a BYOB strip club within a 100 mile radius of your place of residence, you should go to it.
It's a good thing we went to strip club later that night to re-establish our heterosexuality, because this picture is almost painfully gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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