The stink hits you as soon as you walk into the bar. Perfume, deodorant, hair gel, bar scum, lies, cocaine, lip gloss and false pride make for a nice scent cocktail. A cocktail as potent as the Long Island iced tea that a gelled up guy in a white button-up shirt and jeans drinks as he stands along the bar looking at himself in the mirrors. Everyone is smiling as their Miller Lite bottles glug like the water cooler in your office.
Ear drums are blown as the DJ spins the latest Akon collaboration jam so girls can take pictures of themselves dancing for their Myspace pages. As they dance they laugh hysterically at each other. They then embrace and exclaim their love for one another through subtle kisses on the cheek. When the song ends it's time to flip open the cell phone and stare at their latest glowing text message.
People exchange phony smiles and laughs as their friends scream into their ears over the music blasting throughout the bar. They have no idea what they are saying to each other, but it doesn't matter.
Gelled up guys think they are impressing women by slowly nodding their heads as they leer at the gyrating hips on the dance floor. They follow them to the bar as they stick their hands in their jean pockets to pull out a few twenties. "SHOTS FOR EVERYONE," the gelled up guys will exclaim as they try to decipher if it is going to take a couple of lines to get the gyrating hips back to their apartments.
"Do you live in the city? Really…me too! How is your view? What building do you work in? Isn't there are REALLY good Indian restaurant around there?"
These conversations will be slyly lead into the direction of a yearly salary and what college he or she attended. "I would do anything to be back in college for just a week. Just give me a week man! Were you in a sorority? I was in Kappa Alpha Beta Delta Fresca"
Girls come out of the bathroom and order glasses of white wine as they furiously look around the bar and dip their hands in and out of their purses. They look down at their shoes and grimace when they realize that they are covered in bar sludge. Time for another glass of white wine and trips to the ladies room. They come out of the bathroom again talking on their glowing cell phones with one finger stuck in their unoccupied ear. The people on the other line can't hear and word, but it doesn't matter.
A guy with a backwards hat and popped collar raises his meaty fists into the air as he downs his fifth Red Bull vodka. He is blasted, but his motor is still running on the fuel of Red Bull. He walks out of the stinky bar onto the sidewalk to smoke a Parliament and sneers at a group of adults walking home from dinner. He spits on the windshield of a passing cab, and looks back at his friends with a laugh-at-me smirk on his face. "Fucking terrorists man. I got a buddy in Iraq man. Kid is a fucking hero."
A group of ridiculously good looking blonde-haired girls roll their eyes at a guy in a yellow button-up shirt as he tries to tell them about his job in real estate development. "I work on Walnut street. I go to the gym there too. It's great. They have a squash courts and flat screens mounted on the treadmills. You won't believe the deal I got on this flat-screen at Best Buy." The ridiculously good looking blondes are waiting for him to say the magic words. "Do you guys party?" The blondes and the yellow-shirted guy will walk out of the bar well before closing time.
It's getting late and the crowd gets stuffy when they realize that the lights will be flicked on soon followed by bouncers in tight black t-shirts. "Everyone get the fuck out! You don't have to go home, but get the fuck out of here!"
Cell phones are flipped open for the usual drunk dials and text messages. Booty calls will be made and people will be disappointed. Several guys will desperately walk over to groups of random females to let them know that they have the goods back at their place.
The lights snap on and the bar patrons groan collectively. It's is time to fight for a cab so that they can be belligerent to the driver on their way home. People will fall asleep in the clothes they went out in and wake up early in the morning to call their friends about the night before. "The last thing I remember is dancing to that Akon song! Oh my god…we got pizza. I don't remember that AT ALL!"
You will see the same people doing the same things as soon as you enter the bar next weekend, but it doesn't matter.
Random Ben Has Moved
6 years ago