And I really don't quite know what to say. Literally speechless about elements of the trip. Which is probably good.
Very fun overall. Just... not sure how to interpret being rubbed upon by single boy/men. While Kbot watched and laughed at my discomfort. Probably just not drunk enough. But still... I don't remember being that nonchalant about the whole game back in the day. Guess I was just too damned serious for my own good. Never had it in me to dance on a stage with my girlfriends to EXTREMELY LOUD CRAPPY MUSIC. And the saddest thing- I was saving that small percentage of my hearing for the White Stripes concert. Fuck.
I don't remember girls from MT being quite that... uninhibited. But that probably has changed. I am old, remember. And no doubt the age of some of the participants mothers. Eek. But still.
All were blond, or some variation. All were showing knockers galore. All were just naughty girls. And then there was me. Hee hee. Kbot and I were just amazed.
Some seriously skeevy dudes in residence, as well. Including a trio of what had to be severely gay guys who were hiding out at the titty bar to throw their jarhead buddies off the track. They were doing an awful lot of back rubbing and touching eachother to be straight. I'm just saying.
So skeevy that there was an actual attendant in the men's room- no doubt to keep the shall we say, occupancy, moving along.
Overall, the thought, "Well, I NEVER!" kept repeating itself in my head. And I tried to ignore it. Because I refuse to become my grandmother. But that doesn't mean that I went totally Roman. I would like to think of it as more of an anthropology experience. Watching from the fringes, and trying to understand where my youth went...
And wishing that they would just turn the FUCKING LOUD, CRAPPY MUSIC down.
And Kbot kept repeating that they needed to clean the fucking beer lines. Gak.
So I'm not the only old one. Hah.
Postscript: I think it necessary to explain- in this instance I was wearing Kbot's gray tshirt (there was a luggage mishap involving cuticle oil and my clothing....sigh...), my comfy jeans and my Converse slipons, topped with a black sweater. Very sexy, no? No. Just a touch out of place.
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3 comments:
now listen.
there's nothing "old"
about complaining
re: nasty beer taps/lines.
in the establishment at which i often drank
in college,
they found tapeworm
in the lines.
'nuff said.
now i realize why
my stomach was always in shambles
after a night of debauchery
at that joint.
also...what's "bad music" for you?
just interested.
Well, we had a choice between ear splitting country in the bar across the way (where there were girls on the counter, and the waitresses wore their underwear to work, and nothing else) or the bar we were in with the ear splitting rap/hip hop mix and the waitresses in their underwear.
Which raises a couple of questions- do their mothers know they work in their skivvies? And does the health department sanction this?
I think that the rap/hip hop in question was pretty much crap. Especially since it was being sung along to by a bunch of shit-faced hammered middle to upper class white kids. Who then proceeded to rub against me. Sweet Jebus. (rolls her eyes and shrugs)
you know
rap oughta be ashamed of itself
for having this kind of audience.
my "rap"
has always been Public Enemy,
KRS-1, De La Soul, and Tribe Called Quest.
i've never seen any upper class,
white kids dance to THAT.
but i've had a few rub up against me.
here's to hoping
they caught something.
oh yeh...Old Grandad...nice!!!
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