I was at the Club Evolution, using the free passes to Softcore. The dancefloor when we got there was empty, so we went to the back stairs to get up to the lounge area to use the bathroom facilities.
Near the stairs, there's an elevator. As we started to go into it, the two/three guys already occupying it told us they were going to the basement, not upstairs. I have no idea what three guys are going to do in the basement of Evolution, but my mind may go and wander and wonder and make up wild stories of Man Love in dark, dusty corners next to crates full of unopened bottles of liquor and cleaning supplies...
Regardless, we went upstairs, took advantage of the bathroom amenities and got a drink. A shot of Jameson. Apparently, it's top shelf stuff here. Who would have known? There goes 16 bones in one gulp for each of us. I'm happy to report that my gag reflex is such that one shot of Jameson doesn't NEED me swallowing at all - it's straight down down down, swishing and swirling and joining the party of dry martinis from Sputnik and the sweet potato fries of Strelka.
Although, my throat still does not know how to function once being entirely dried from such a cocktail and it still sputters like a little 13 year old taking hits of strawberry shnapps in back of Hamner Grade School. Always room for improvement.
The lounge area is filled with chairs. These chairs all have wheels on them. The floors were hard wood. The obvious thing to do would be to act as if one was three and horseplay on them, around them - have chair races, chair bumper... chairs, launch them off the stairs, do tricks, stack them, set them on fire, etc.
The bouncers in the lounge would stop this behaviour as quickly as they could; as they did with me - I was wild eyed at the physics of my new found pleasure device and couldn't help but use the brick wall as a source of potential energy to ricochet myself to the other side of the bar. The bouncers must have to stop everyone who sat down on one of these chairs for the first time - which is everyone - once; it's that natural of a thing to do. I finally saw someone get kicked out of the club because of using the chair for its correct purposes of ramming it into another chair occupied by a friend.
Those were the coolest chairs, ever. And they were red.
We finally did dance. And then we walked home. I kept my shoes on, she took her high heels off.
Quote for S.G.:
Those who come seeking peace without a treaty are plotting.
- Sun Tzu, "The Art of War"
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