Night out

So I've been going out lately, as anyone who's read these blog entries lately knows. I've been documenting some of the highlights in various emails to close friends, but that's sort of petered out over time because (a) I can be very verbose, and (b) I feel like I'm imposing on them. At first maybe it was cute to receive massive emails from me about my adventures with drunk women, homeless guys, and blisters on my feet. But given my (probably) perceived fragile state, I fear that my friends didn't really want to tell me to shut up.

As I walked the 2 miles or whatever it was from the karaoke bar I finished at tonight, I thought it might be fun to type up the highlights from tonight... and if anyone else out there finds it funny or whatever: fantastic. In the mean time, I won't have to worry about filling up my friends' email inboxes with nonsense (I just had a flashback about an extended email exchange with "inbox" as a double entendre... mmm. OK. Sorry.)

6:00 to 8:00: I take a nap.
8:00 to 9:45: Eat, shower, get gussied up.
9:45: Depart for downtown Seattle. My mechanism for transportation on nights out is by foot. It's not that I'm cheap, and therefore don't want to park or take a cab. I also enjoy the exercise and the mobility that being entirely unencumbered by a motor vehicle allows me to be. Since I have almost no idea what I'm doing, being able to change my mind without consequence is part of the fun.
10:10: Arrive at Twist, a rather cool bar on 1st Avenue. I do a quick pass through the premises to see if (by some miracle) I actually knew someone there. After that, I order a drink (actually, I ordered a Sprite, although I consider ordering an adult beverage as I approached the location), which was free, and tip the bartender a buck. I also think as I did so that I have a friend who's friends with a bartender there, and I wonder if I was tipping that guy, or if he was off that night.
10:15: I go to the back of the place, grab a table (it was still pretty empty) and do what I always do to kill time: pop open my cell phone and act like I've got something to do. I end up sending a couple friends a txt message, bemoaning how I so often get my Sprite and then just sit there until it's time to leave.
10:20: The place is starting to get busier, and a party of four people (2 men and 2 women) wander past me and wonder aloud whether they can use the larger table next to mine. I immediately chimed in, saying of course they could, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could talk to me (I'm a moron). They thought it was kinda funny, I suppose. One of the women, who was actually very cute asked if I was waiting for someone (I was sitting at a table for two, of course, and I suppose if I looked like I was waiting for someone, then I was doing my job of looking not entirely like a dork). I answered the entirely reasonable question in a sloppy fashion... it wasn't something I'd premeditated an answer for, but I could instinctively tell that a "No" would be a weird thing to say. So I said something lame like, "Kinda" and that would have been that... except the two guys (who were sitting in the middle of the booth, and had established themselves clearly as a couple) scooted over, and she scooted over, and I joined them.
10:25: We chat for a while about nothing terribly important. We introduced ourselves, and I learned where the cute young lady works. I also learned that she's a big sports (and huge Mariners) fan, and has the SportsCenter jingle as her ringtone. Seriously, the more I think about it, the cooler she was. And cute. I wasn't terribly funny, but I think she was enjoying talking to me as she nursed her beer. The problem was that she was insanely sleepy. I would be the first to admit that I can be a bit dry at times, and individuals of both genders might occasioanlly find me boring, but I can't take credit for the massive yawns and head-on-the-table sleepiness action.
10:50: The gang of four decides to leave. I didn't feel comfortable attaching myself to them, so I let them leave and then I started hoofing it to Ozzies, which is a karaoke bar that I frequent.
11:20: Arrive at Ozzies. Pick out a song, turn in the slip of paper as soon as I could, knowing that there was just over 2 hours until it closed. The place was busy and when I turned in my slip (for "Centerfold") the DJ told me I might not get to sing. I cheerily said, "It's OK". Bought a Sprite and planted myself on the wall.
12:20ish: Two pretty drunk chicks start to dance on the nearly-empty dance floor area, and the hotter of the two motioned me over to dance with her. Even I can rarely say no when a hot chick asks me to dance, so I put down my almost-empty Sprite (I really nursed that puppy!) and clumsily wandered out a few steps and let her rub against me for about 30 seconds as I kinda tried to move minimally so as to not make a fool of myself. As far as awkward things go, that sort of dancing is more pleasant than most things, but she'd invited me out when there was only about 30 seconds left in the song, so I had the always weird feeling that occurs when the song is over and the woman is clearly done with you and I made the long walk back to my spot. Actually, it was a short walk (about 6 feet) but it still was kinda weird.
1:30: Ozzies stops songs for the night, and I wasn't called. Woe is me! I start the long trek home.
1:50: I pause, along with about 2 dozen other people, to watch a potential fight. A guy's getting into the cab, and another guy was taunting him to come and fight. After about 5 minutes the guy (predictably) got into the cab and left, but there was a lot of intermediaries trying to get them to break up. Alcohol is a crazy thing.
2:00: I'm nearing Pine, which is my street to go home from First, and a guy kinda got into stride with me, and we had the following conversation:

Him: Do you know where any strip clubs are?
Me: Yes... just keep walking down First and you'll bump into one.
Him: Are you still in high school?
Me: No.
Him: Are you still in college?
Me: No. I'm well out of college and graduate school.
Him: Oh! What do you do for a living.
Me: I work at an advertising agency.
Him: Ah.
Me: What do you do?
Him: I don't have a job. I don't do anything.
Me: ...
Him: I'm retired from the Marine Corp.
Me: Wow. Congratulations. [Totally wrong thing to say, let the record show.]
Him: Well, I didn't really want to be.
Me: Why are you retired?
Him: I got him by a drunk driver. A drunk driver going 45 miles an hour.
Me: Um. That sucks.
Him: Yeah. I was in the Marines for eight years and I wanted to reenlist but they didn't want me.
Me: Because of the accident? You seem to be walking just fine, although I guess you must be in a lot of pain if you were discharged because of it.
Him: I don't know why they didn't want me back.
Me: ...
Him: ...
Me: Well, what do you WANT to do?
Him: Just get my life back...
Me: ...
Him: What should I do? [That's right. This guy is asking a total stranger what he should do with his life at 2:00 in the AM]
Me: Did you get any training in the Corp? [I was acting cool by calling it "The Corp", I thought]
Him: I learned how to kill people. And how to train people to kill people. And how to train people to drive boats.
Me: Ah... so you have experience teaching. Maybe you could--
Him: Yeah, teaching.
Me: Maybe you could rejoin the Marines?
Him: Maybe. What should I do? Get an attorney?
Me: Talk to a recruiter. They have quotas to fill and maybe they would at least explain if they didn't want you back.
Him: Yeah.
[handshake]
Him: Thanks

I'm always glad to help a veteran, whether it's finding a strip club or with major life choices.
2:20: Arrive home. Start this blog.
2:50: Distracted by email. Decide to see if I can find the contact info for the cute chick from Twist based on the info I have on where she works. I'm successful and I make a first pass at an email to her. I don't send it, though, because it's so late and even at this hour I know it might be too stalkerish to ever send.
3:00: Last of four Hostess Donettes are eaten.
3:29: I curse myself as I remember I want to be up in 4 hours to prep for an event at 9:00 AM Saturday.
3:30: Blog entry completed.