|Ted, thinking "You're welcome Shelbs"|
Saturday was no exception.
When I realized that I was going to be followed around all night by a former client asking me about green cards and offering to buy me drinks, I refused to stay any longer. There was also a lady there wearing terribly tight jeans that appeared to be worn with a g-string on the outside. Yucky. I also found it quite amusing that a Napolean Dynamite type dude was tearing up the Latin dance floor in his super dorky rocker bottom sneakers very similar to the ones pictured below.
Bizarre. Things were getting very bizarre.
So we left.
We drove by another Latin dance club but were scared to go in because we weren't sure if it was shady and we didn't have any body guards with us.
So we opted out and met Dreads at another venue, which I assumed was some low key sports bar where I could get some french fries.
A girl I used to work with was doing coat check. Surprising but beneficial because she also watched my purse.
Minutes after we got there, drama broke out in the bathroom. Girl fight, get me outta here.
Then a guy I later found out I went to high school with, who claims to be a politician in Chicago (this is why he is not on FB) made some seemingly flattering comments about my hip and butt region. We both reminisced about our days as "Trojans," but I somehow forgot to tell him my favorite "Trojan" story, the "Your mom shoulda used a Trojan" story. Ahhh another day.
Then a fight broke out halfway into our drink and we all got into my car and headed to the bar that's open until 3. By "we all" I mean the politician and his friend, Jenny, Dreads and myself (the d.d.).
There I ran into a friend who informed us that another friend just left to go to the place we were afraid to enter. We would have had a body guard after all.
Then someone dropped their beer, which went crashing to the floor shattering into at least a dozen pieces.
Then a fight broke out.
So we went upstairs.
Then more people were being escorted out by the bar body guard guys.
Shady. But for some reason we stayed.
Despite all of the shadiness and drama, we had a good time and Jenny finally got to dance a little.
We called it a night just before three and everyone was tucked into their own beds in their respective homes.
Except well, the guys from Chicago. They disappeared halfway up the stairs to our final destination.
We still can't figure out if Dreads is Jamaican or not. He claims to be but when asked to speak with a Jamaican accent he said he lost it because he's been here nine years. Even with the Jamaican flag on your wall, not convinced buddy.
The entire night I kept reminding myself that "nothing good happens after two am..."
I extended the two am rule to three but and as long as none of the drama was directly related to me, I can sleep peacefully.
The rule for 2012... NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER 2AM and always be extra careful when there's a full moon.