A Gathering of Friends and Freaks

Thursday night tends to mean drinking in my apartment with my friends and then going out and about Lower Queen Anne. Specifically, it tends to mean Chopstix nowadays.

Flowers and Thor showed up and we discussed some work-related war stories. We looked at pics from 4chan.org (don't click on that... trust me. Don't.) and discussed the impact the site has on public consciousness. We discussed Haiti for a bit (fortunately for all involved, this was post-Hamburger consumption). We drank. And then we left.

I used to hate Chopstix, which is a bar with "dueling pianos" where popular songs are played and people request what they want to hear (and tip for the privilege).

I didn't hate it because of the idea of it... I just never really had fun and never met girls there (are the two related? Perhaps...) Flowers and TM2000 and F-Bomb all enjoyed it, though, so I kept going. And it grew on me.

Why did it grow on me? At least four reasons:

1. Heavier alcohol consumption;
2. I met some chicks there and now know it's possible (if still unlikely, relative to, say the Frontier Room);
3. Over time, I've come to know and really enjoy some of the peeps that work there, and
4. I've taken to grabbing request slips and a pencil and making charts and graphs about what I am seeing and thinking about and talking about.
   

 I've got probably a hundred charts and graphs that I've made as the pianos played and bachelorettes danced around and dudes with backwards baseball caps on got under my skin.

Last night was so odd. Flowers and Thor were there, of course. Politica and Queen Bee were, too. Stix was working. Oops (the recipient of my embarrassing mis-sent txt on NYE) showed up, too. Of course The Regular made an appearance (read more about him here).

Cool. Fine.

But... there was more. A heck of a lot more. Let's explore it in charts and graphs, shall we?

"Interest Level"

I hadn't seen Oops in a few months, and it was a pleasant surprise that she made an appearance. She used to work there and so she made the rounds to the employees, saying hi, and then she settled in next to Politica and me. I introduced them, and Oops said that she had to see the new menu.

This chart captures, with perfect mathematical accuracy and a high level of precision, Oops's interest level in talking to Politica and me vs. checking out the new menu.

I actually drew this chart for Oops and her mouth was saying, "No! That's crazy!" but her eyes were saying, "Damn straight!" as they surveyed the establishment for a menu.

"Ladies Night"

One reason that Chopstix is an occasion on Thursday nights is that it's Ladies Night... $3 gets any drink that any woman wants. Let's talk about that word: "woman".

Just as I once learned the difference between speed and acceleration, I eventually learned the difference between "sex" and "gender". I'm no expert, but one has to do with physical state of man/womanhood, and the other has to do with the role one assumes--irrespective of the bits and pieces that exist below one's clothing.

Chopstix uses "women" in the gender sense... as a result, there are transgender individuals that occasionally visit... men dressed like women who get cheap-ass drinks in an environment where no one will be mean, etc.

That's cool. Whatever. I actually have a semi-friend (friend of a friend) who I've come to know a bit who partakes in that sort of thing.

Last night, though? It was a bit out of control. As you can clearly see, there were a LOT more dudes ("M") than chicks ("F")... and when one accounts for the transgenders ("F'") the scales become even more unbalanced.

Which was less than ideal for at least two reasons: first of all, it's more fun for me to look at women than at guys (whether they're wearing backwards baseball caps or shabby wigs); secondly, Queen Bee and Politica and Oops were getting winked at, talked to, their backs lightly touched by guys who were passing by. (And by me, but they like it coming from me! (I like to tell myself.))

But whatever. People were being people. At least I didn't want to punch someone in the throat.

Oh, wait...

"Throat Punching %"

I am not, by my nature, a violent man. Maybe it's because I suck at fighting video games. Maybe it's because I suck at fighting in real life. Maybe it's because I've ascended to a higher plane than most of the morons on this planet... even if I think people are morons, I rarely want to physically punish them for their existence or actions.

Last night, though? I was about to make an exception.

There is a part of the bar that we usually set up camp... along a counter that separates the table area from the dance floor. It lets us place our drinks on the counter and watch people dance and the pianists play.

One of the first things I noticed last night was a guy, we'll call him Four Eyes because I was (and am) in a pre-hamburger state of mind about this guy,  who walked from our left at a table (with the F' group) across the (empty) dance floor to our right. Then back across. Then, after a brief pause, back to the right. And the left. And the right... I have no idea why, but it was driving me insane.

And I really felt like punching him right in the ol' throat. His throat, specifically.

This graph is a bit ambiguous at first glance. It represents, over time, (a) the number of times Four Eyes crossed the dance floor, and (b) the chance of me punching him in the throat over time.  You can see that his movement was pretty consistent, while my rage had various slopes over time.

If you look closely, you can see two vertical lines towards the middle of the t axis... he left at right about that point, so he only had about a 52% chance of getting his larynx crushed by my fist.

...

Charts and graphs at Chopstix are fun, and they're a great way to document an evening, chastise friends, and make fun of strangers... all while exposing my sloppy penmanship to everyone who cares to see it! What more could one ask for, right?