Soo...I'm back! And by popular demand. Well that's not entirely true...mostly it's because it's back to school time, I'm bored and trying to procrastinate doing my work. Also this blog has existed for almost 3 years now. Yay me! Note I said existed and not "been active for".
You can read up on the part 1 of this series here Anyways...I'm going to attempt to think back to my New Years and finish the story that really defined New Years Eve in all it's entirety. I also have to give credit to my best friend here who wrote me probably the best facebook message I've received trying to recount the nights events.
We've already gotten over the cannolli hurdle.
So now we are back in our hotel room. Drinking down more wine from our mason jars hot glued to fancy bases. I can't really tell you why we picked that as our goblet of choice...but I can tell you it was a highlight of the evening. We finished out the bottle and watched the countdown happen in Ontario. At this point, because I'm an old man, I was already feeling like I wanted to sleep. Also the beds in this place were made of feathers from the wings of angels. Not a word of a lie
It was then decided that we were acting like the lameos we typically are so we had better head down and check out the scene.
Since our time in the "Club Masque" devouring twice our weight in buffet food, it had transformed into every nightmare of people past the age of 18. Music was pumping so loud you could actually see sound, 50 year olds were singing along to Top 40 hits my friend and I had never even heard of and dance moves that resembled how I imagine a fish taking it's last breath would look. Drunk on rose and the dreams of tomorrow, we entered the fray.
On our way to the dance floor we saw some guys (here on out referred to as The Asians, though their specific cultural background has nothing to with their actions, we just need a distingusher as the night gets more...complicated). Now the general population of the dance floor looked like this: 40 year olds grinding like I did once when I was 18, douchey 20 year olds with spikes in their hair like Joey Fatone, and the assortment of 30 year old randos who seemed to be a hyper-breed of the other two. But these dudes fell into our group, I say this because as we approached they were doing the robot. Harmless...so it would seem.
So we took a chance and in these new found friends we also found admirers. To quote my friend "they were super stoked on how we danced and thought we were like the coolest chicks ever". But our infatuation with The Asians didn't last long, though theirs would last a lifetime (as we found out later). And so we moved on, but much like Bella and Edward...our fate would be tied to The Asians.
It was at around this point our night began to take a nosedive the likes of which haven't been seen until Miley's recent "twerking" situation. As my friend and I were doing some twerking of our own (not really because at this point twerking was still considered a form of hurting your ankle) some random football player guy came over and grabbed my 100lb friend, lifted her off the ground, had his friend snap a pic then proceeded to tell her that he was dying of cancer and was trying to get as many pictures with girls as he could...unlikely. Guys if you need a line...this one works 80% of the time every time guaranteed. It was then, much like the majestic elephant we decided to migrate to a different room.
As we passed through the lobby we saw people at various stages of drunk. There was the cryer, the puker, the fighter, the serious talker, the I-dont-give-a-fuck-guy, the passed out, and the way to lovey. As I passed by them, I saw in them myself...after one bad night with whiskey, gin and their good friend tequila. I imagine Dante wrote a book about this place. We pressed on, determined to know what waited on the other side of this drunk purgatory. The first room we reached held new promise, new hope...it was as desolate as my empty soul. The music didn't even make sense to us. We made eye contact with the DJ, we saw his pleading look, we only shook our heads and walked away. And then there was hope. One more room, the beat pulled us closer. And yet like Indiana Jones, there was warnings coming at us from all the directions, we heard the Jackson 5 blaring, we saw aged 50+ people mulling about and then there was the literal oral warning of "do not go in there, its all old people" but we clung to our hope of finding the age group that accepted us. All it took was a split second. But the next moment we were walking as quickly as we could from the room that we had hung all our hopes on.
We began the long journey back to Club Masquerade. Yet on our way there we hit a detour. We ran into The Asians. There was no cordial hellos. They dove right in, my friend was immediately bombarded by one who kept asking for her number. We can only guesstimate it was at least 20 times. And for each time he asked, she turned him down. On the 20th time, I had enough of this back and forth. My buzz had worn off and all I wanted was to deck someone in the face. It was then I came up with this genius but classic line. All I said was "look, we're married. We don't feel comfortable talking about it with you but she can't date you because she's my wife". Dead silence. Then my friend quickly caught on and nodded in agreement. We began to turn away as if this should have solidified the point. There was something said about how it wouldn't be a date per se and I should lighten up. He was one whiskey shot away from getting a punch in the throat from me.
We returned to the dance floor alone and unscathed. However, it wasn't long before we felt eyes on us. We turned, only to see our worst nightmares reincarnated. There staring at us with eyes as hungry as a baby vampire was (who I thought at that time) was the douchiest of all douches I had seen walk this planet. He was a whole breed in himself. It didn't take us long to realize he was plotting his plan of attack. However, this staring contest went on for approximately 30 minutes. No move was made in a solid half hour, however the starting continued the entire time. One of the most uncomfortable half hours I've experienced. Then like the cunning alpha male in a wolf pack, he swooped in. His target? My friend. However he didn't attack alone. He brought with him...THE MEGA DOUCHE
Now I wouldn't use such a title lightly. However, when a man wears dress pants, a dress shirt and a vest with way to too much silver jewelry, hair gel and faint stench of whatever abercrombie and fitch cologne is popular at the time, plus you can see the faint tattoo on his arm of Chinese symbols...you know you can only be dealing with the Lilith of all douches. (If you aren't sure who Lilith is check this quick description here..also you should probably watch Supernatural. Educate yourself). As douche number 1 scooped up my friend, MEGA DOUCHE was left to entertain me. He swung me around once, pushed me away, looked at his friend (his twin brother we learned later) and proceeded to say "bro, she doesn't even know how to tango". It was then that douche 1 got super pissed and picked a huge fight with MEGA DOUCHE as douche 1 continued to dance with my friend.
At this point I had sat down to watch the drama unfurl. Keep in mind my friend and I have become completely sober at this point with no money to purchase more drinks. As I began to nod off (because when I'm not an alcoholic, I'm actually an 80 year old man). I heard a voice beside me. I turned to see a dude in a bright pink dress shirt. He had been one of the MEGA DOUCHES friends so I was wary of his advances. We chatted for a bit, about what I can't be sure, then as he made his move to dance with me, MEGA DOUCHE returned for another charming conversation. All I remember is drama ensuing.We peaced quickly as we were beginning to realize that our presence was becoming the catalyst for a douche fight. The most vicious and terrifying events to ever be witnessed by man or beast.
I realize you've been waiting 7 months for this baby but I have to cut it off there. I feel like George R. R. Martin however were I in his position I would've killed Joffery the bastard long long ago.
Stay tuned for the third and final installment of The Douche in The Mask
You can read up on the part 1 of this series here Anyways...I'm going to attempt to think back to my New Years and finish the story that really defined New Years Eve in all it's entirety. I also have to give credit to my best friend here who wrote me probably the best facebook message I've received trying to recount the nights events.
We've already gotten over the cannolli hurdle.
So now we are back in our hotel room. Drinking down more wine from our mason jars hot glued to fancy bases. I can't really tell you why we picked that as our goblet of choice...but I can tell you it was a highlight of the evening. We finished out the bottle and watched the countdown happen in Ontario. At this point, because I'm an old man, I was already feeling like I wanted to sleep. Also the beds in this place were made of feathers from the wings of angels. Not a word of a lie
It was then decided that we were acting like the lameos we typically are so we had better head down and check out the scene.
Since our time in the "Club Masque" devouring twice our weight in buffet food, it had transformed into every nightmare of people past the age of 18. Music was pumping so loud you could actually see sound, 50 year olds were singing along to Top 40 hits my friend and I had never even heard of and dance moves that resembled how I imagine a fish taking it's last breath would look. Drunk on rose and the dreams of tomorrow, we entered the fray.
On our way to the dance floor we saw some guys (here on out referred to as The Asians, though their specific cultural background has nothing to with their actions, we just need a distingusher as the night gets more...complicated). Now the general population of the dance floor looked like this: 40 year olds grinding like I did once when I was 18, douchey 20 year olds with spikes in their hair like Joey Fatone, and the assortment of 30 year old randos who seemed to be a hyper-breed of the other two. But these dudes fell into our group, I say this because as we approached they were doing the robot. Harmless...so it would seem.
So we took a chance and in these new found friends we also found admirers. To quote my friend "they were super stoked on how we danced and thought we were like the coolest chicks ever". But our infatuation with The Asians didn't last long, though theirs would last a lifetime (as we found out later). And so we moved on, but much like Bella and Edward...our fate would be tied to The Asians.
It was at around this point our night began to take a nosedive the likes of which haven't been seen until Miley's recent "twerking" situation. As my friend and I were doing some twerking of our own (not really because at this point twerking was still considered a form of hurting your ankle) some random football player guy came over and grabbed my 100lb friend, lifted her off the ground, had his friend snap a pic then proceeded to tell her that he was dying of cancer and was trying to get as many pictures with girls as he could...unlikely. Guys if you need a line...this one works 80% of the time every time guaranteed. It was then, much like the majestic elephant we decided to migrate to a different room.
As we passed through the lobby we saw people at various stages of drunk. There was the cryer, the puker, the fighter, the serious talker, the I-dont-give-a-fuck-guy, the passed out, and the way to lovey. As I passed by them, I saw in them myself...after one bad night with whiskey, gin and their good friend tequila. I imagine Dante wrote a book about this place. We pressed on, determined to know what waited on the other side of this drunk purgatory. The first room we reached held new promise, new hope...it was as desolate as my empty soul. The music didn't even make sense to us. We made eye contact with the DJ, we saw his pleading look, we only shook our heads and walked away. And then there was hope. One more room, the beat pulled us closer. And yet like Indiana Jones, there was warnings coming at us from all the directions, we heard the Jackson 5 blaring, we saw aged 50+ people mulling about and then there was the literal oral warning of "do not go in there, its all old people" but we clung to our hope of finding the age group that accepted us. All it took was a split second. But the next moment we were walking as quickly as we could from the room that we had hung all our hopes on.
We began the long journey back to Club Masquerade. Yet on our way there we hit a detour. We ran into The Asians. There was no cordial hellos. They dove right in, my friend was immediately bombarded by one who kept asking for her number. We can only guesstimate it was at least 20 times. And for each time he asked, she turned him down. On the 20th time, I had enough of this back and forth. My buzz had worn off and all I wanted was to deck someone in the face. It was then I came up with this genius but classic line. All I said was "look, we're married. We don't feel comfortable talking about it with you but she can't date you because she's my wife". Dead silence. Then my friend quickly caught on and nodded in agreement. We began to turn away as if this should have solidified the point. There was something said about how it wouldn't be a date per se and I should lighten up. He was one whiskey shot away from getting a punch in the throat from me.
We returned to the dance floor alone and unscathed. However, it wasn't long before we felt eyes on us. We turned, only to see our worst nightmares reincarnated. There staring at us with eyes as hungry as a baby vampire was (who I thought at that time) was the douchiest of all douches I had seen walk this planet. He was a whole breed in himself. It didn't take us long to realize he was plotting his plan of attack. However, this staring contest went on for approximately 30 minutes. No move was made in a solid half hour, however the starting continued the entire time. One of the most uncomfortable half hours I've experienced. Then like the cunning alpha male in a wolf pack, he swooped in. His target? My friend. However he didn't attack alone. He brought with him...THE MEGA DOUCHE
Now I wouldn't use such a title lightly. However, when a man wears dress pants, a dress shirt and a vest with way to too much silver jewelry, hair gel and faint stench of whatever abercrombie and fitch cologne is popular at the time, plus you can see the faint tattoo on his arm of Chinese symbols...you know you can only be dealing with the Lilith of all douches. (If you aren't sure who Lilith is check this quick description here..also you should probably watch Supernatural. Educate yourself). As douche number 1 scooped up my friend, MEGA DOUCHE was left to entertain me. He swung me around once, pushed me away, looked at his friend (his twin brother we learned later) and proceeded to say "bro, she doesn't even know how to tango". It was then that douche 1 got super pissed and picked a huge fight with MEGA DOUCHE as douche 1 continued to dance with my friend.
At this point I had sat down to watch the drama unfurl. Keep in mind my friend and I have become completely sober at this point with no money to purchase more drinks. As I began to nod off (because when I'm not an alcoholic, I'm actually an 80 year old man). I heard a voice beside me. I turned to see a dude in a bright pink dress shirt. He had been one of the MEGA DOUCHES friends so I was wary of his advances. We chatted for a bit, about what I can't be sure, then as he made his move to dance with me, MEGA DOUCHE returned for another charming conversation. All I remember is drama ensuing.We peaced quickly as we were beginning to realize that our presence was becoming the catalyst for a douche fight. The most vicious and terrifying events to ever be witnessed by man or beast.
I realize you've been waiting 7 months for this baby but I have to cut it off there. I feel like George R. R. Martin however were I in his position I would've killed Joffery the bastard long long ago.
Stay tuned for the third and final installment of The Douche in The Mask
