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The Piano Sounds Like a Carnival

June 9, 2007 3:05 AM

've had a standing policy since sometime in college: no getting drunk when I'm in a bad mood. Some people enjoy being drunk for its own sake. I don't. If I'm drunk but I'm not with my friends and I can't focus on just having a great time, it generally turns out pretty shitty. Not for anyone else, usually. But definitely for me. I hate being drunk and in a bad mood at the same time--those are almost invariably my worst times.

The past week has been awesome in some respects and shitty in others. Mostly, though, it's been awesome. Sure, I've been really busy--I feel like I've been going nonstop forever. The "free time" I thought would come with graduation was a complete lie, apparently. And Bar/Bri is, well, an unmitigated pain in the ass. But I'm used to being busy, having lots of shit to do, and not getting nearly enough sleep. I can deal with all of that--three years of law school have taught me how to survive under all of those conditions.

So all that's really left is the awesomeness. No, I haven't been going out every night. And, actually, I really miss some of my friends (Mr. Utah, Mr. Vice, Ms. PH, Ms. X-tina, Mr. L-Dawg, I'm looking at you. And, even though I see you guys every day, I don't really see you guys every day, RPM and Bluebunny). But my days have been short and self-contained, but I've gotten just about enough time to relax every day. So, basically, it's live I've had a real job. And this is my first weekend. So I was in a pretty good mood tonight.

Therefore, I was down for some drinking.

We started off, as planned, at the comedy club here in Madison. I don't know what it's actually called, but the guys were pretty funny. One of the comics apparently had a cameo role in Starship Troopers. He was really funny, I thought. The headlining guy was older, but he was hilarious. He had the audience laughing pretty much continually throughout his hour-long set. It was a really good time. There was a two-drink minimum; I had a Blue Moon and a dirty gin martini.

Afterwards, we all headed down for food and drinks at the Great Dane, which is one of my favorite establishments. They brew their own beer, and I particularly like one called the Crop Circle Wheat; it comes in a twenty-two ounce tall glass, and it's pretty delicious. Their soft pretzel appetizer and chicken salad croissant are both awesome. I had one of the aforementioned Crop Circle Wheats.

We then planned to head down to the Silver Dollar, our favorite dive bar. But--for the first time in recorded history--the Dollar was packed. That was fucking ridiculous! So we went across the street to this relatively new piano bar that I really like. The pianist was this younger guy I've never seen before, but he was pretty good. He played some songs I really like, including Brick by Ben Folds Five, Long December by the Counting Crows, and, of course, Piano Man. The whole bar was singing along with him and swaying back and forth. It was pretty cool.

Then we decided "fuck it" and went to the crowded Silver Dollar, where Mr. Utah pulled an L-Dawg and forced me to do a shot. When I say "shot," I should explain that Mr. Utah specifically requested the cheapest shot available. What he got was something that the bartender called "whiskey," but which I'm pretty sure was just fermented rat piss and terpentine. Anyway, I saw what Mr. Utah was planning and immediately told him that, under no circumstances, was I going to take a shot of whiskey; I hate even good whiskey, so bottom-shelf whiskey did not appeal to me at all.

No sooner had I refused the shot than Ms. PH came up and started implying that I possessed female reproductive organs. The gauntlet thrown down, I had no choice. But, goddammit, I was taking Ms. PH with me. So I told Mr. Utah to get a third shot and, after ordering a proper chaser, we were set. We all took the shot (toasting John Roderick Stocco) and then all nearly threw up. God, that shit was terrible.

The evening ended soon afterwards, but I think everyone had a good time. I know I did. And now, after a cab ride home (which I had to share with a stupid drunk douchebag who warned me not to drive drunk on the Beltline for the next two weeks because they're doing random stops and didn't seem to understand that his warning was slightly misplaced given that I don't drive drunk on the Beltline or otherwise (hence my cab ride)), I'm home safe and sound.

And I can look back on the evening without guilt or regret. God, what a wonderful feeling--I love my friends, I love my city, and I love my life. I also love Neko Case. If you're not listening to her, you're an idiot.



3 Comments


Dee said:

wow, it sounds like you're having just the right amount of fun for someone taking the dreaded bar! i have to differ from you with regards to Ms. Case, however. A little of her music goes a long way for me. Particularly since she gave this interview on NPR and prefaced nearly every statement with "since i have a very unique voice," or "because i have always recognized my gift for singing." that's how other musicians are supposed to talk about you. after you're dead.

June 9, 2007 8:56 AM



Donnie said:

Sure, blow off the terrace and then go out later. Donnie gets it.

June 9, 2007 8:47 PM



dicta said:

it's always nice to finally relax and have a carefree night out. i should be there real soon too, and i'm very much looking forward to it.

June 11, 2007 12:02 AM



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