Tuesday Night (or: Fat Grizzly Adams)

I used to go out on Tuesdays quite a bit. Especially during funemployment, I could wander in really late and sleep the morning away and be no worse off. Last night (a Tuesday) I had planned to stay in, do my dishes, talk about cleaning other parts of my apartment, and generally relax.

But it was not to be.

I received a chat message from Winner right after I got home, and I got this chat:

6:02 PM Winner: edo, why are you you?

  and what are you doing tonight?

 me: i just got home

  can I have 5 minutes?

 Winner: no

  fuck you

  we're going out tonight

  (courtesy of Big Apple)

  :D

 me: wowzers

6:03 PM heh

 Winner: let's say 10

  be ready

  with your hair did

6:05 PM and no stache (from Big Apple)

Winner is not really the kind of person that says, "Fuck you" to me (indeed... few people do, even in jest, on account of my legendary temper and penchant for eye gouging), so I wasn't shocked that it was Big Apple who was in charge.

I was in the middle of making dinner, and had no intention of shaving my mustache just yet, so I txted back that I wasn't sureI was going to make it out. And then it happened.

(Hopefully that sounds super-dramatic. It wasn't, but I like adding spice to blog entries occasionally...)

Big Apple txted me and asked why I was trying to ruin her night out. Ugh.

I hadn't seen Big Apple in over a year, and I will be honest: I am particularly susceptible to suggestion when it comes to her. I don't really know why--I generally am rather skilled at ignoring peer (or near-peer, when I'm feeling particularly superior) pressure--but she could probably get me to do just about anything for her. And she probably knows it.

So, when she said we were going to sing karaoke, I just rolled with it. I had a drink and the two of them picked me up and spirited me off to Hula Hula... a place I used to frequent but haven't been to in the last year or so.

It was fine. It was fun. It was good to see the ladies, even if they didn't sing... I got in four songs, which made for a busy night.

A bit before midnight, we decided to go to another bar. I didn't catch the name of it, but Big Apple wanted to see another friend and so we drove to Belltown and parked and walked into the Two Bells, which I had been to for lunch but didn't really know was a bar that people went to at night to drink and hang out.

Well, if last night was any indication: it's not a bar that many people go to to drink and hang out.

There was a bartender, Big Apple's friend, another chick with a guy, and two dudes sitting with one another. It was a friendly enough place, although I knew I was done drinking for the night and I was wondering if I was going to be able to get a ride home or if I'd end up hoofing it.

I was sitting in a booth, talking to Winner, and Big Apple was bellied up to the bar, between her friend and one of the two dudes sitting with one another.

Let me say some things about this guy, who we will call Fat Grizzly Adams (see picture to the right). He was fat and had a bushy beard. And a bit of an attitude, but we'll get to that in a moment.

Big Apple and her friend were talking and looked over my way and I asked them what they were talking about and it was, of course, my mustache.

I have a love-hate relationship with my facial hair. Up until relatively recently, I was pretty much unable to grow any significant amount, and I'm still in the "it's fun to play with growing it in different ways" kind of immaturity that, presumably, many guys grow out of in their junior year of high school. I'd let my facial hair grow for a bit over a fortnight and then cleaned it up so I'm left with a rather tidy 'stache and soul patch.

Crappy? Yes. Ironic? Yes. Awesome? Yes. When it comes to facial hair, these concepts all get intermingled and confusing.

In any event, Big Apple and her friend had a conversation (between the two of them, but staring at me) that went something like this:

Big Apple: He needs to shave the mustache.
Big Apple's Friend: I dunno.
BA: He does.
BAF: Mustaches are hard to pull off, but he does it.
Me: I do, huh?
BAF: Yes, it's a tidy mustache.
Me: Oh, yeah?
BAF: Maybe it's the hair.
BA: Yeah, the hair! You make the hair just right so it goes with the mustache.
Me: Uh, no, actually, I...
BA: You do! You stand in front of the mirror, adjusting it so it all works.
Me: Uh, OK...

Watching this exchange, of course, was Fat Grizzly Adams. Remember: he has a beard. A big bushy beard. Big Apple turned to him and had this exchange:

Big Apple:  You! You have a beard.
FGA: Yes, I do.
BA: You grew it to show him what a real man looks like!
FGA: Yes, I've grown it for a year to show him what a real man looks like...
BA: It took a year to grow that?
FGA: Yes.
BA: Oh. You're not a real man, then.

I don't think he appreciated that jibe, although he probably was so shocked and delighted that she was talking to him that he didn't mind too much.

One thing he did appreciate was when I decided to leave. I think that most guys, no matter how far out of their league the girls are, and no matter whether the girls have boyfriends (or even like guys) or not, would prefer that other guys leave women unattended. It was past 12:30 and Big Apple was talking about getting waffles and I just decided to walk home. I bid Winner adieu and then wandered up to the bar...

Me: OK, I'm outta here, Big Apple.
BA: You're leaving? OK. Are you walking?
Me: Yep.
BAF: Where do you live?
Me: Lower Queen Anne.
BAF: Ah... well, that's not too bad.
FGA: That's not bad at all!

...

Notice the exclamation point at the end of Fat Grizzly Adams' statement. That exclamation point is to indicate both the energy level with which he made his proclamation and its ludicrous nature (see picture to the left).

This is a guy who looks like he hasn't walked a mile in the last month, let alone at 12:30 AM on a Wednesday morning. No offense to fat people generally, but some offense to THIS fat person: shut up. Don't tell me what a good or bad walk is. I was already leaving you alone with my lady friends... no reason to get all uppity.

I made it back to my 'hood in one piece, and I ended up getting a pretty good night of sleep. I'm not sure that Tuesday outings are going to become a part of my regular agenda, but I had a good time and look forward to resting up tonight without having Fat Grizzly Adams irk be beyond reason with five simple words.