So on day three of the baby trip, me and Pokey Pants decided to walk from my Mom's house to the other side of Davidson for 2 hours of late night drinking at the only bar in town: The Brickhouse. Even on Saturday nights when there are young people in there, that place has the nerve to constantly play 1970's light rock. I'm talking Dan Fogelburg and shit like that. It's so weird.
I did notice one funny thing on the men's room wall. There was an advertisement above the urinal for a local gym. It had a sweet looking girl-model in the add reluctantly shrugging her shoulders and smiling with a caption that said, "I don't have time to work out!"
But before I read it, I noticed some dude had scratched through one of the words with an ink pen. I figured, as usual, it would be some unclever and probably misogynistic vandalism. However, upon further inspection, I realized that whatever guy did this had actually scratched out the word "time." Aww, some guy had a crush on the girl in the add. Because the word he crossed out left the sweet model now smiley-shrugging while saying, "I don't have to work out!"
I bet if that model ever found out about that bathroom prank, she would come to town and spend her life on a quest to find that unknown man that she now loves back.
So back to our night at the bar. It was boring. A lesbian tried to dig at me for making her job easier. When she realized it, she felt like shit and was super nice to me the rest of the night. Not only was I not being a dick, I was being extra-cool, and her dumbass initially misunderstood. I guess it's not her fault. Most people in Davidson suck, she probably just assumed.
What happened was, I ordered two bourbon and cokes for me and Pokey when we got there - but Pokey, who is 29, was in the bathroom. The lezbo asked for two I.D's., so I nicely said, "She (Pokey) will have her I.D. when she gets back. Here's mine."
She started to just make one drink. I said, "If you just want to make two at the same time and keep one behind the bar until Pokey gets here, that's fine. I know that's what she wanted."
She got snippy and said, "Do you have any more orders to give me?"
I said, "Whoa. I've worked behind that side of the bar. I was trying to assure you that a second valid I.D. was coming your way, so I was trying to save you the time and the trouble of making one drink two different times, and instead making two drinks at once. I was not ordering you. I was trying to be a non-problem for you."
After that she was nice. Don't call me a dick when I'm not, because then I will be.
So after our night at the bar, we headed to the street for our mile walk home through the Davidson ghost town.
"What's that noise coming from that way?," said Pokey.
"Oh, I'm sure it's a party at a frat house on the Davidson College Campus," I said.
I then told her how we used to go to sneak into the parties when we were 15 and 16 and try to flirt with the college girls, since the college guys would always steal our high school girls. We never did succeed. The older college girls would humor us and think we were cute, and then the Davidson guys would beat us up and/or throw us out.
I told Pokey how it was funny how I used to go to those college frat parties when I was too young, but I never went when I was the right age. And now that I'm in my thirties, I'm once again too old.
She said, "That's all the more reason for us to do it." Let's get thrown out of a frat party full of people we don't know for being too old.
I said, "You forgot one thing. We both look young as shit. We just had a bartender think we were pulling the "underage girl go to the bathroom trip while I order" trick. And you're about to turn thirty. We can probably fool young kids into thinking we're one of them."
So the challenge was on.
We walked down frat row, and Pokey pointed towards a small house with loud music. It had about 75 people dancing on the open floor while a couple of DJ's played hip-hop songs we didn't recognize.
Now, I'm more of an extrovert than Pokey. She's retardedly shy to strangers. But she ran this show. As we entered the house, Pokey decided to blend into this party by being really loud. She walked in the door to the main floor and started going "Whoooohoooohooooo! Yeaaeaaeeah!" Then she started shaking her butt. So I started shaking mine. And we started dancing as crazy as all these kids around us. Even if they were 10 to 12 years younger than us, on a campus where all 1700 students know each other. Everyone saw us, but nobody suspected us.
I remember one time saying, "Hey Pokey, everybody's making out. We have to do it too, or they'll know we're not one of them." So we made out nastier than any of those tykes.
And everytime a new song came on, Pokey would scream at the same time as the other girls acting like the DJ had just turned on her favorite tune. During the third of fourth song, I said in her ear, "You don't know any of these songs do you?" She giggled and said, "Not a one. I hate this shit." And then we kept dancing like we loved it. And for the moment, we did.
Then after five songs, we decided to quit tempting fate. As the old saying goes, it was time to walk before they made us run. And walk home we did.