my attempt at a social life tonight bombed miserably; it did supply some fun tidbits to mull over, however.

no one from the usual crowd was there, so i spent the time with Younger Brother and his friends. they have classified the types of people at this particular event into several categories (these categories also comprising a microcosm of the people i went to college with):
1. the "yeah it is" guys. these are the guys who, if you tell them they're wearing a nice shirt will say "yeah it is." if you say it's a nice day they'll say "yeah it is." there's a certain inflection that it's impossible to reproduce in print, but the emphasis falls on "yeah."
2. the "oh my god" girls. the girls who start every sentence as if it's a dire, life-threatening crisis. the less common variety use the phrase as an interjection of surprise.
3. people who say "i know, right?" as a form of agreement. (i made that one up).
4. the interesting and intelligent people. i don't just mean those of us classifying either; there are some genuinely cool people at $1 margarita night, or i wouldn't go.

the second fun conversation of the night occurred when Younger Brother accused me of inhabiting a fantasy world. i pointed out the lack of intelligent conversation i get in "real" life, and also mentioned that his major past times are drinking beer and skateboaring, neither of which i enjoy. then johnny piped up with a story about his fantasy world, which apparently has lots of platforms, empty space, holes and "predapi." "johnny, what's a predapi?" "i assume it's the plural of predapice." "you mean precipice? a ledge overlooking an empty space?" "well, yeah. but mine eat people." i love hanging out with johnny.

things i saw tonight:
*scary 80s boots with stiletto heels. sadly, more than one pair.
*enough fake blondes to pay the salary of the CEO of the bleach-making company.
*people who looked far too young to be drinking (is it me or are 21-year-olds getting younger all the time?)
*too many girls with too much makeup
*my first real bar fight.

the bar fight is the reason that i left; they closed down when they had to call the police. i don't know how it started. one minute i was sipping my margarita and talking about whether led zeppelin are patron saints of rock and the next minute two guys have each other in headlocks or something. the entire bar, and i mean that almost literally, left their seats and crushed in on the center of the turmoil. barstools fell, glasses shattered (it's not a bar fight without the sound of breaking glass. why is it that when people see two other people fighting, they must break in and make even more chaos? i was reminded of grade school; maybe these are just people who never left that era of their lives. when will people realize that alcohol and testosterone don't mix? everyone was shooed quickly into the parking lot, where several smaller shouting matches ensued, and i managed to get my car turned around (the police blocked the exit for some asinine reason) and get the hell out of dodge. so this is why i didn't go to bars in college.

so here i am, all dressed up & no place to go. really, i should stop being shocked by this.

ceci n'est pas une oeuf. -beatpoetgrrl

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