Tag Archives: bar

Origins #18

1 Jul

I was in Rene’s car and we were heading South, out of the gridlocked city. Traffic was slow exiting the city as well and that left us with plenty of awkward silences as Rene concentrated on weaving her way through the swathe of brake lights towards South Perth.

lights blurI mentioned that I would have preferred to meet up in South Perth anyway because I could have walked there. Rene pointed out that she thought it was too close to my place, and was worried that people would see us. I pointed out the irony of that concept considering we’d just driven out of the most populous area in the state on one of the busiest days of the year and that I’d run into some mates on the way through.

South Perth?

The view of Perth from South Perth

The view of Perth from South Perth

We got to South Perth but there was no parking available anywhere. One thing I remember specifically about the few laps we did of South Perth while Rene hunted for parking was Rene droving straight through a crosswalk without waiting for the pedestrians to cross. It stood out to me because I always try to let people cross, even when it’s not a proper crosswalk. It’s 10 seconds out of my day, and I can spare 10 seconds to make the day easier on someone. I mean, there’s a law that says you have to let the people cross, too, but I’m big on courtesy regardless. I remember distinctly making a mental note on it and thinking that it was one of those things to look out for, like your date being rude to the waiter.

There was nowhere to park. I suggested going to my place but Rene was under the impression that someone would see her car there. I was a little worried about running into someone we knew but I hadn’t assumed people were spying on my property. It seemed a bit overboard to me but I was more concerned with the conversation than the location, so I shut up and let Rene decide our new destination.

Driving aimlessly?

Rene hadn’t decided where we were going yet, she just aimed south down the freeway. While Rene drove I relayed the story of her father leaving the entire office laughing at me by making it clear he knew we’d spent the night together. Rene laughed whole heartily at my re-enactment and, to my concern, dropped her head nearly all the way into her lap as she did so.

We trekked through various suburbs I had barely heard of and Rene knew well enough to take short-cuts through. Rene became fixated on showing me where a friend of hers lived. We did several laps of streets I didn’t care about looking for a house I wasn’t interested in seeing.

night-drivingThis area was very different to the government housing I’d grown up in. The suburb alone was enough to make me uncomfortable. The beautiful, ornate, double-story homes looked like the set of a TV show about imaginary rich people to me. I guess I knew those houses must exist but it had never occurred to me that I might know someone who lived in one.

Eventually Rene satisfied herself that she’d found the home she was looking for, or at least she was pretty sure. I told her it looked nice and smiled politely. We sat in awkward silence until Rene exclaimed, “We should go get a drink”, with the same enthusiasm most would reserve for announcing the discovery of 20kg of gold.

A drink

As we drove towards wherever Rene planned for us to get that drink, I noticed again that she wasn’t especially good at staying focused on the road or obeying the road rules. Nothing too terrible mind you, but it was enough that it triggered me to think how extremely awkward it would be if Rene had an accident bad enough that her car wouldn’t get her home. “Someone would have to pick us up and it’d look super suspicious that I was with her after spending the night with her”, I thought to myself.

scary driving

Despite my concerns, we made it safely to the bar just outside of Fremantle. I tried to pay but Rene fought me over it and grabbed us some fancy beers before we sat down in the seat Rene had carefully identified as the least visible to other people.

We chatted and laughed and were having so much fun that I had to remind myself that we weren’t on a date. I was even doing all those stupid things you do on a first date, like looking Rene in the eyes and noticing that they seemed to be a little crossed, and then enough time trying figure out if they were slightly crossed, or she was sitting so close to me that her eyes had to cross a little to look straight at me.

Rene seemed to be enjoying things as much as I was but was clearly worried that we might be seen. She kept asking if I thought anyone had seen us on the way there, or if I recognised anyone at the bar. I wasn’t worried about that. I was distracted by wanting to touch her. I remember leaning forward, realising it wasn’t a date, and returning my hand to my side of the table.

So hot. Want to touch.For all her concern over being seen, Rene was being plenty flirtatious and playful just the same. I don’t know exactly what we talked about but it sure wasn’t if we’d see each other or not. I only remember bits and pieces, like talking about the bands I’ve played in, and learning that Rene had played bass for a short period of time. I remember Rene trying to tell me about a particular French phrase she learned during her time there and that she said the phrase in an unadulterated Australian accent, which of course I teased her about. I would have teased her if she’d said it in perfect French too, because it we were having a good time talking pointless shit.

Despite all the bullshit leading up to it, we were having fun. It was like all the other crap was forgotten and we were just two people attracted to each other having a good time. It was exactly how I’d imagined things would be if we were to go out in the future. A bit of fun, under the radar. And it felt easy. It felt right to me.

A burger

With our bottles emptied, it was time to eat. We ordered take away from the gourmet burger joint next to the bar we’d been at because Rene wanted to eat them somewhere more private. We loaded into her car and drove onwards while the heat radiating from our burgers steamed up the windows and I complained that she again had refused to even let me pay for my own burger.

15 minutes later Rene found her way to the beach she had in mind. We parked up and wandered a few minutes down to a nice spot. We sat with our legs dangling off a cliff wall overlooking the sands the beach, barely illuminated as the moon hung low and bright, as the Indian ocean swallowed it in her waves.

The burgers were huge. Seriously, they were massive! And mine was damned good. It was so good that I forgot the complexities of the evening as my taste buds pumped happy chemicals into my brain informing me of the magnificent mixture of pineapple and chicken and bacon and fancy sauces and whatever else was in that glorious burger.homer burgerNext thing I knew my burger was gone and my belly was aching from being overly full. I had chosen poorly. I had demolished that burger and had been so fixated on how good it tasted that I’d not considered the potential outcome of forcing something the size of my head into my stomach in a very short period of time.

Burger. Gone.I was bursting at the seams and could tell that my rapid eating had triggered a burp so epic that there was every chance the Bureau of Meteorology would have to name it after it triggered a local cyclone.

In addition to this, there seemed to be half a burger on my face and between my teeth and a distinct lack of napkins or beverages to help resolve this less than ideal state.

Seriously? Right now?

Can't talk. Eating.

As luck would have it, that exact moment, as I sat there with a burp that threatens to blow my burger covered face off, was when Rene had finally plucked up the courage to initiate our ‘talk’.

So I guess we should talk about what we’re supposed to be talking about?

Yeah… Let’s do that… But… just so you know, I get that this is serious and probably not easy for you, but I ate that burger way too fast so it’s possible I’m going to burp in the middle of this conversation, and I’m really, really sorry if that happens.

After I said that, Rene got a huge smile on her face and did one of those little laughs that only shows up as quiet exhales through your nose and said:

You know, that’s one of the things I really like about you. You do and say whatever you want, whenever you want. It’s really refreshing.

Next time

That’s enough for now. Next time I’ll tell you how our talk went.

10 Things you should not do at a bar

26 Mar

10 Things you shouldn’t do at a bar

Bars are fun. Drinking is fun. Meeting strangers can be awesome and dancing your butt off to your favourite tunes can be downright glorious. Remember however, bars are magnets for crazy bitches, and seeing that I’m trying to dissuade women away from being crazy bitches and/or being mistaken for crazy bitches, I thought these suggestions might come in handy.

These aren’t the only rules for not what to do at a bar, but they’re some of the more important ones.

10. Don’t get shitfaced

Sure, you’re there to have a few drinks, but you don’t need to empty every bottle in the bar. Try to keep in mind that the point of being at a bar is to socialise, and it’s difficult to socialise when you can’t even talk. Also, the more you drink, the worse you’ll look in photos.

too drunkWhy not?

Looking bad in photos isn’t the worst of it.

Massive hangovers suck really bad. So does waking up with someone you would very much prefer to have never touched. Waking up in a jail cell is pretty shitty and I reckon waking up in the hospital is even worse. You can usually avoid all of these things by keeping yourself from achieving shitfaced status.

Think about it for a second… they call it shitfaced… it’s not exactly a positive description, is it?

9. Don’t get into fights

This one applies to inside and outside the bar. If the point of going to a bar is to socialise, rolling around on the ground trying desperately to cause another person to bleed seems to go against that objective.

You’re not going to get along with everyone in a bar. That’s ok. That’s part of life, and that’s why you can choose to talk to someone else, or go to a different bar or, y’know, any other civilised way of not ending up rolling around on the ground trying to rip out someone else’s hair.

Why not?

Even if you really hate someone there, before you engage in fisticuffs with them, consider how much time you’ll waste in dealing with the bar staff, the police, and potentially at the hospital. It’s not fun dealing with people in uniforms when you’re just trying to have a fun night out with your friends. It’s not fun for your friends to wonder if you’re ok. Having a record for assault is never going to improve your life.

If you can’t think clearly enough to avoid getting into fights, look back at point #10.

8. Don’t be shitty to your boyfriend

A bar is not the place to test how much your boyfriend is into you, or to see how willing he is to stand up for you.

Don’t go around flirting with guys in front of your boyfriend, that shit’s not cool. If you’re not sure how much he likes you, there are better ways to figure it out than trying to enrage him by being massively disrespectful to him in public.

Similarly, don’t go around expecting everyone else in the bar to put up with you doing whatever the fuck you want, and then get all surprised when they point out that you’re behaviour is making their night worse.

Why not?

What almost always happens in these scenarios is that your boyfriend is going to have to stand up for you, and when you tell the random, massive dude who’s beer you just spilled all over the place that “My boyfriend will kick your ass!”, you’re either going to cause your boyfriend to take punches to the face for you, or get into a big argument with you about why he sided with those complete strangers over his girlfriend.

And if you’re flirting with other guys in front of your boyfriend, he’s going to get pissed off at you or at the guys. Either way, you’re pissing your boyfriend off.

That’s ultra shitty. There’s no good way out for your boyfriend and that’s just a straight up shitty way to treat someone you claim to care about.7. Don’t take your clothes off

This isn’t one of those hard and fast rules, I’m just saying, at least think to yourself “Would I be doing this if I was sober?”

For example, if you’re wearing a coat and it’s really warm in the bar, take off the coat. You’d do that if you were sober, so it’s a reasonable decision. If removing the article of clothing would cause the police stop you in the street, were they to see you, you can generally assume that’s not something you’d usually do when you’re sober, and thus is not the right way to go.

The woman in this video clearly didn’t follow the simple “Would I take this off if I were sober” decision assessment.Why not?

Well… there are several reasons. If you can’t answer them for yourself when you’re sober, I don’t think there’s anything I can say that’s going to help, except that maybe you should consider a career in exotic dancing.

6. Don’t go overboard with public displays of affection

Just like the previous rule about taking your clothes off, the PDA rule requires a bit of self evaluation.

The whole point of going to a bar is to socialise, so it’s bound to lead to showing some affection sometimes. Note that word some. Kissing your boyfriend or your girlfriend, if that’s your thing, is totally cool. Depending on the place, some sneaky groping might not cause too much hub-bub.

There are a couple of clues that it’s going too far which are hard to miss. One of them is that you realise that you’re kissing someone more for the benefit of everyone else, rather than for you and the person you’re kissing. A really easy way to figure that out is when the bar erupts into applause.

Another way to evaluate if your PDA is going too far is to consider if it would make a good viral video.

Even when the irony of the situation demands it, it’s still not a good idea.

Why not?

Because if you’re really into it, you can find somewhere private. Also, not everyone is actually into seeing you do that shit, and the people who are don’t give a shit about you, they’re just in it for the show. Think about it this way, do you really want to be one of the “skanks” those people will be laughing about later in the night? and probably jerking off to later that night? Do you want to be the star of a viral video about having sex in public? See, that’s the sort of shit that make’s it tough to get a job.

If your answer to those questions is “No”, what else is there to say?

5. Don’t cry at or around the bar

Hey, look, emotions happen. That’s just a part of drinking and socialising. Getting some sort of emotional response is kind of the point of going in the first place, but those negative emotions… the ones that lead to crying, they’re just not good for a bar situation.

Why not?

Crying is an obvious sign of a person in a vulnerable state. Predators seek out people in vulnerable states.

I don’t know about you, but that video skeeves me the fuck out.

The other major reason to keep your negative emotions in check at the bar is everyone is trying to have a good time and it’s way harder to enjoy your night with people crying around you. If you keep it up too long, you’re going to piss people off, like the girl in this video, who was crying at the bar staff that she needed a charger for her phone.

You want another reason? I feel for the girl in this video because she seems really nice, but it is a great reminder that crying isn’t very flattering.

4. Keep the dancing to the dance floor

I know how it goes. You’ve done some pole dancing lessons and you’re feeling really good and you know for damned sure you’re looking good. Those tequila shots are kicking in and then you see it… a pole. It’s just there waiting for you to dance on it and show everyone in the vicinity just how well you can ride it.

Unfortunately, the people who put that pole there probably weren’t expecting it to be used in an ad hoc amateur pole dancing session.

Maybe it’s not the random pole, maybe it’s the table.

Maybe it’s barely even the table at fault

Why not?

Did you not watch the videos?

3. Don’t pee anywhere except in the ladies toilets

Yeah, the lines are long and the wait is horrendous. Maybe if women didn’t turn using the toilet into a social affair things would move a long quicker and you wouldn’t have to do the gotta pee dance half the night. Doesn’t really matter though, because the only place you’re allowed to pee when you go to the bar, is in the ladies toilets at that bar, or at your place when you get home.

You don’t get to use the gent’s room. They already make us piss into a trough like livestock. We shouldn’t also have to deal with the confusion of seeing a woman in there! The point in the night when you start to think using the men’s room is a good idea is the point in the night at which you need to focus on rule #10 again.

And that doesn’t mean

2. Don’t lick any buttholes

At no point in your time at the bar, should your tongue make contact with a butthole of any sort.

No.

Some of these rules have grey areas. This one does not.

If your tongue somehow does make its way into the general locale of a butthole, just call it a fucking night and go home because something either went really, really wrong, or you’re into that sort of thing, in which case something went really, really, right. For good or bad, it’s time to leave the bar.

Why not?

Most people go to bars to get away from the assholes they have to suck up to during the day and they don’t want to be reminded of that bullshit.

1. Don’t suck 24 dicks at one bar

Alright, listen up. No matter how awesomely and magically it is explained to you, there is never, under any circumstances, a good reason to suck 24 different dicks at a bar.

Usually I prefer to leave room for a potentially plausible cause for outright ridiculous behaviour, but when it comes to putting the cocks of 24 different guys in your mouth in one night at a bar, I just can’t come up with an even remotely acceptable explanation.

Apparently the girl in the video thought she was going to get a holiday. She didn’t get a holiday. A Holiday is the name of a drink they serve at the bar. If my understanding is correct on this one, this young woman put the various dangly and/or firmish man bits of 24 guys in her mouth in hopes of earning a vacation while she was already on a vacation, and instead earned herself a drink.

Jesus H Christ! Most blokes will buy a girl a drink if she bloody well smiles at him! Maybe try that first!

And as for this supposed trip, what fucking holiday could possibly be worth sucking off 24 strangers?!?! Unless you were promised a first class guided tour of every country on this ridiculous planet, and the moon, and every planet in our solar system, and maybe backwards and forwards in time, then maaaaaybe it’d be worth it. Otherwise, what in the fuck could possibly convince you that you need to put 24 individual sweaty, gross, hairy, unprotected cocks into your mouth?

If you really want to play the old trading sexual favours to gain wealth and a luxurious life style card, you’d be far better off heading over to the casinos in Monaco to find yourself a billionaire rather than a shitty dive bar in spain where the clientele are totally cool with watching drunken teenage girls get convinced to suck 2 dozen wangs for the promise of a motherfucking holiday!

Even a porn star would rate sucking 24 dicks in a single night as a pretty big deal. So maybe that’s one way to avoid doing something like this. Ask yourself, “would a porn star be remotely uncomfortable with this?” If the answer is yes, and you’re not a porn star, maybe you should nope the fuck outta there right away!

nooooo

Crazy bitch tip: Rules 10 through 3 are pretty important and you should definitely stick to them, but everyone slips up from time to time, just make sure as hell you never break rules #1 and #2.

Beer me

12 Oct

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Crazy bitch tip: if you can’t find someone to babysit your child while you head out to the bars in Vegas, you don’t get to go out to the bars in Vegas.

Video

Episode #15 – Playboy

15 Jun
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