Last Night

So I parked my car on 2nd and Davis and walked on over to Kells, where down in the Cigar Room waited Shane, Cam, Caitlin, and her friends Shar, Jessica, Chad, boyfriend Jerry, one of Shane's coworkers, and some other fat girl whose name I can't remember. This was yet another instance of skinny, skinny, trash guys liking fat, unattractive but horny women. How does this WORK? It doesn't make ANY sense, except in some kind of genetic balancing act kinda way, but that's really not how it works so much. *sigh*

Anyway, I arrived at the bar feeling great. We went upstairs to order Caitlin some abusive 21er drinks, but found out they don't serve them at Kells because, well, they're abusive. So I got myself a double vodka Redbull for some energy and that was that. We decided not to stick around Kells for too long, so I finished off my drink after some chit chat with Cam and Shane about Japanese women, and hopped in the limo. Yes, the limo. Yay for my first limo ride. We are now officially pimp birthday status.

Our next stop was Henry's, to play some pool. As we were driving up, sipping none other than *sigh* Mike's Hard Berry in champagne glasses (thanks you classy birthday plannners) I saw J-Bear sitting outside in his cook's outfit, so I gave him a call and harassed him. Turns out he was pissed at his coworkers. We tried to stay the hour till he finished, but, Shane's coworker friend well, was already drunk when I saw her at Kells, and was getting pretty sloshy by this point, and as soon as I took a sip of my Greyhound and signed up for a pool table, I felt like I got hit by a train. Three straight days of being up late and drinking and doing so much all the time caught up to me and pounced on me and then proceeded to jump up and down on me strangle me and otherwise make it perfectly clear that my energy loan payments had become past due. I tried to maintain conversations with people, but, it was an effort.

After Henry's we moved on to Hubert's? Hubens? Something with an H, for Mai Tais at the suggestion of Chad, one of Caitlin's friends, but not before meeting up with Becky M and her fiance, who I haven't seen in ages. Yet ANOTHER person I haven't seen in years and years. What a weird trip this has been. Anyway, we arrive at the bar to discover that it's actually a very small restraurant, and there is nowhere near enough room for all of us. The host informs us of this in no uncertain terms. Shane, Cam and I decide to wait outside in the hall with the rest of the older crowd while the young ones chill at the bar and do their thing. This goes on for a while. When they emerge again, it's clear a few of them, namely Chad, whose brilliant idea it was to come here in the first place, have done quite a bit of drinking.

We hop back in the limo, and cruise over to, oh yea, 7-11, to buy smokes and energy drinks etc, and Chad pukes in the limo. Just a little bit, just the tip of the iceburg, but, he pukes. You miserable little fuckhead. No one's supposed to puke at a 21er but the 21er. You're not there to get fucked up on a 21er, you're there to ritualistically abuse some poor birthday kid with booze until they're too fucked up to speak, not puke in their limo and add to their stress.

When we take off again, it's to go to Betty Ford, a cleverly named bar on 12th and Washington that Amanda has mentioned she frequents as her bar of choice. It's cool in there, I liked the setup, even though the motherfuckers have a trough urinal, which is death to me. The place, compared to the other bars we had been at, reeks of what I've come to see as the real PDX scene. This bar was clearly created to be a haven from places like Aqua, and the other big PDX scene bars. By scene I mean upwardly mobile recent college graduates who either have highly well paying jobs for being single and in their 20s still and as such throw money around in this ridiculous high life status contest, or are willing to spend money to look like that's their life. I mean, it's Portland Oregon for Christ's sake. I wouldn't mind people acting like they're super important if there were a chance that they actually MIGHT be important, but, come on. It's just a pissing contest at this point. And moreover, it's a bunch of overpaid cokeheads. I know this from experience. Betty Ford is owned by cokeheads, paid for with coke money, and frequented by cokeheads. The place reeks of it. As if the name weren't indication enough.

We hung out there for a while and the birthday girl did her party/dance etc stuff while Shane and a couple of us chilled at a table and chatted.

I'll make the rest short cause I'm running out of motivation to continue in any real detail. We got in the limo around 1am, and they drove me to my car. I called Nina and she told me to come to Mary's on Burnside and Broadway. Turns out to be the absolute classiest establishment I have ever been to in my life. Old school strip club. Complete with old school strippers. Nina was more or less wasted when I got there. Shortly after arriving, the RedBull I had earlier decided it wasn't down to hang out at a place like this and quit working. I was dead. Nina spilled a beer all over me, my gloves, my jeans, and my jacket. Sweet. Eventually I left with her and her friend, took him home, came back to Nina's place and crashed. I woke up this morning and came home. Went back to sleep. Stayed in bed all day.

I'm tired. I feel like I need to sleep for another week. In other news, the next time I live somewhere, anywhere, remind me to make sure that I don't live with an alcoholic. I'm so over it.