I went out carousing for the first time in, I'm not sure when. It was awesome, I went with my friend gr0d, who doesn't post anymore since Final Fantasy XI ate him, and my wife, neVer. neVer and I met gr0d, unexpectedly, at the bus hive that would transport us South to Queen St. gr0d spent the bus ride showing off his new iPod and then gave me his old mp3-Cd player, he's so thoughtful. Our troupe fell out of the bus and hit the street, patronizing four of the five bars we know are there:
The first was 2066 Queen which is a nice lounge style place with couches in the window seat, we sat there and had two Smirnoff Ice (neVer and gr0d) and a Guinness (moi.) We didn't talk about anything in particular and had a satisfactory time there.
Our next stop was Castro's Cafe (or whatever it's called) and had a Porn Star (neVer, some purple fuity thing) a Banana Ball Martini (gr0d, the name of the drink is obvious) and a Gulden Draak (I, a fruity beer that I enjoyed almost all the way to the bottom of the glass.) This is where gr0d mentioned how most beers have a strange taste when you get to the bottom of it and came up with the ingenious idea of SHAKING it before opening it. I told him about how shaken beers always end up mostly on the floor and also that it probably has to do more with the temperature of the drink and possibly the spit that ends up in it after drinking most of it than it does with impurities and sediment already present in the bottle before opening it. I don't think he quite bought that story. Castro's Cafe is a really nice place which does not serve domestic beers, only imports, wine, coolers and mixed drinks. Keeping the Rif-Raf out has never been easier.
The next place was a much more traditional bar which had a live band, a cute chinese waitress (Tu Ning jokes, groan) and a smattering of drunken regulars. The bartender had gone home for the night, strangely, and they didn't have any coolers so we ordered simple mixed drinks and wine. The band's rhythm guitarist was missing somewhere and the keyboardist was stone drunk, playing off key sometimes. The bassist and lead were what you would expect, submissive and rudely witty, respectively. They played some songs, I don't remember what but we watched them for two rounds. The keyboardist yelled over to our table "HAY GUYZ, WOT U WANNA HEAR!!??" and I quickly said, "U NO NE CHUCK BERRY????" to which the lead gave some excuses about the missing guitarist to cover up for his lack of knowledge on the subject of classic rock idols (he didn't even know who Chuck Berry was.) They serenaded us as we left with a bit of Johnny B. Goode, ending our Scratch Daniel's Odyssey.
Next we hit a packed Lion's Club and wondered at the amount people clustered around the bar when we got a table right away. We also had an argument about Green Day and which song made them popular. There was a slightly more professional band there who were playing the old Tragically Hip song about chicken bones when we left to take a cab to the Village, or gay sector.
The cab ride was fun and pretty. We were crushed into the back seat of the car and taking the fastest route to the intersection we were aiming for when we noticed the light mist hanging from the streetlamps. It never did rain though the meteorologist said that it might. gr0d and I were about half drunk, though neVer had already had a bunch of drinks before we even left the apartment. It was a nice ride through the city streets and we were ready for Zipper's when we got there.
Actually, first we made a pit stop at gr0d's laundry room, it has a bathroom and a small trade library.
We entered Zipper's through a back door, neVer and I being immediately driven through the pounding, stinking dance floor by our gracious host, gr0d. He knew where there was an ATM machine and was making a beeline for it. The front room of the club is a lounge with very, very good soundproofing (the noise of the dancefloor lost as soon as we entered the place.) There was a grand piano with chair around it, into which was built a small shelf for putting you drink down. The jolly fat man playing piano was doing a number called, presumably, "Tits and Ass." gr0d pulled his money out of the machine with a bit of fiddling and we got our drinks, a round of Revs, before heading back to the screaming dance floor. It was dark there, like a cave full of monkeys, lasers and pool cues. We stood at the side behind a man who was robotically, half shaking his hips, more like an aerobic step than a dance, it seemed. Pushing past him we took the dance floor and made absolute fools of ourselves, men were checking me out and trying to dance beside me while neVer was not the only girl there, which was a relief to know. We finished our Revs and continued to flail our limbs around for about three songs, I suppose. We left, fed up with the stink of man-sweat and semen, for Pegasus directly after that, hoping to find gr0d's long-standing boyfriend, Chris.
We walked up to the door of the bar just as Chris was walking out, looking for a safe place to burn death-sticks and so made our greetings, entering the building at length. Apparently there was a dyke meet of some kind going on and there were beautiful butches and slutty femmes taking off their clothes and feeling each other up. We stationed ourselves beside a Monster Bash pinball machine and ordered our drinks, three orange Smirnoff coolers if I remember correctly and oogled the half naked pile of women before realizing that the time warp had begun playing and that we were actually dancing to it. Not just us either, a whole, excited gaggle of people were doing the time warp with us. neVer was being checked out by one of the dykes as we were goofily mimicking each other during the "drive you insayayayaaaaane" bit. gr0d begun to wilt some time after last call and, after being smacked around by his friends and being given water by his more sensitive boyfriend, he left for home, leaving neVer and I to finish our drinks and spill out onto the sidewalk to find a taxi home. It wasn't difficult to find one, though we walked a bit to freshen up and keep the ride fare below $20, the last bill in our collective wallet.
The driver was a friendly, witty type and we had no qualms about speaking openly about the details of the night in lurid fashion:
Kraai: "I didn't notice the colour of her hair"
neVer: "The one with the boobs"
Driver: "I am hard of hearing"
And so we made it back in one piece, falling into a deep, drunken slumber which didn't last as long as I would have liked. It was a good night and strengthened all our friendships.