Saturday night
This Saturday night I went out with some co-workers and my friend Amanda to go barhopping downtown. Amanda, the world's oldest 21 year old, hadn't been to many places that weren't Rockin' Rodeo, so I thought it would be cool to introduce her to the grunge that is downtown.
It started at Club Paradise but gradually made it's way to The Mint.
She's a smoker so I'm trying to get her back to the patio so we can chat and stuff, but it took us nearly 20 minutes to get back there because I kept running into people I know. I ran into local actor Greg Ramsdell, local opera company guy Andrew Chung and gallery owner/musician/writer/crazy guy, Robert Spinzo.
The Spinzo was holding court on the patio. I asked him how he and his most recent ladyfriend were doing. He told me something to the affect they have more second acts than Cher (or more break ups than the Beatles or some funny music reference. God, I'm so mad that I can't remember it! It was extremely clever.)
Later in the evening Amanda would be hit on by a guy from "out of town" who told her she had great eyes, then bragged about the jacuzzi at his mom's house.
I only have one thing to say: smoooooth, playa. Smooooth.
I mean, here we are, standing outside because a fight has started inside and she's smoking a cigarette and I'm fake smoking a cigarette (that would be where the second hand smoke and not inhaling comes in) and across the street is the porno theater that you never see anyone go into and the hotel known for it's transients, drug addicts and hookers. Then you've got a punch of greasers and soshes about to go all "West Side Story" meets "The Outsiders," out front. And here this guy is working on what he hopes will be a little mom visit hook up. With the whole, "Where should I go in Bakersfield? This is my first time out." Suuuuure. Riiiight.
And THEN to add insult to injury this trogolyte would later tell me that I looked like Whoopi Goldberg. Mind you, he said a "sexy" Whoopi Goldberg, but them are "fightin' words" to me. I mean, WHOOPI? The woman is horrendous. If I look like anyone, it is Oprah with an afro, gosh darn it! Or Kelis. Or Rachel True. I do not look like Whoopi Goldberg! This is worse than that guy who thought I looked like Macy Gray back in Midland, TX. Ew, folks. I mean, don't you KNOW any other famous black people? I don't look like those people. I just have their hair. Arrggggghhh!
Well, Amanda's male friend who later joined us agreed that I looked nothing like Whoopi Goldberg. He thought I was hot. I've been compared to Pam Grier in "Coffy" and THAT I can handle. Or Teresa Graves of "Get Christy Love" fame. But Whoopi Goldberg? Well meaning white people of the world — Don't make me kill you. Enough people catch beat downs in front of the Mint. I don't want to contribute to the body count.
It started at Club Paradise but gradually made it's way to The Mint.
She's a smoker so I'm trying to get her back to the patio so we can chat and stuff, but it took us nearly 20 minutes to get back there because I kept running into people I know. I ran into local actor Greg Ramsdell, local opera company guy Andrew Chung and gallery owner/musician/writer/crazy guy, Robert Spinzo.
The Spinzo was holding court on the patio. I asked him how he and his most recent ladyfriend were doing. He told me something to the affect they have more second acts than Cher (or more break ups than the Beatles or some funny music reference. God, I'm so mad that I can't remember it! It was extremely clever.)
Later in the evening Amanda would be hit on by a guy from "out of town" who told her she had great eyes, then bragged about the jacuzzi at his mom's house.
I only have one thing to say: smoooooth, playa. Smooooth.
I mean, here we are, standing outside because a fight has started inside and she's smoking a cigarette and I'm fake smoking a cigarette (that would be where the second hand smoke and not inhaling comes in) and across the street is the porno theater that you never see anyone go into and the hotel known for it's transients, drug addicts and hookers. Then you've got a punch of greasers and soshes about to go all "West Side Story" meets "The Outsiders," out front. And here this guy is working on what he hopes will be a little mom visit hook up. With the whole, "Where should I go in Bakersfield? This is my first time out." Suuuuure. Riiiight.
And THEN to add insult to injury this trogolyte would later tell me that I looked like Whoopi Goldberg. Mind you, he said a "sexy" Whoopi Goldberg, but them are "fightin' words" to me. I mean, WHOOPI? The woman is horrendous. If I look like anyone, it is Oprah with an afro, gosh darn it! Or Kelis. Or Rachel True. I do not look like Whoopi Goldberg! This is worse than that guy who thought I looked like Macy Gray back in Midland, TX. Ew, folks. I mean, don't you KNOW any other famous black people? I don't look like those people. I just have their hair. Arrggggghhh!
Well, Amanda's male friend who later joined us agreed that I looked nothing like Whoopi Goldberg. He thought I was hot. I've been compared to Pam Grier in "Coffy" and THAT I can handle. Or Teresa Graves of "Get Christy Love" fame. But Whoopi Goldberg? Well meaning white people of the world — Don't make me kill you. Enough people catch beat downs in front of the Mint. I don't want to contribute to the body count.
posted by Danielle Belton @ 5:47 PM
1 Comments:
At 11:47 AM,
Anonymous said…
Sounds like you guys had fun!
Big Sis
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