Well. This has been just one big ol' week of firsts for the Sonnster. Last night (don't worry -- I'll give the whole story later on), I managed to find myself at The Forum.
-- now before you ask, no, The Forum is not a place where men in togas go to spout off philosophy. God knows I couldn't be that lucky. No, the Forum is...well, let's just start at the beginning, 'kay?
A friend of mine is turning 34 today. Bemoaning the "loss" of her youth, she asked me and a few people out for drinks after work. Lager's -- the candy store of imported beers here in Jackson -- was the designated starting spot. I don't have a problem in the world with Lager's. They serve me Beamish. This makes me happy.
Anyway, after Karen polished off her eleven-hundredth Appletini, she slurred out the sentence "Heylet'sgodancingoveratTheForum'causeit'smybirthdayblaargh." Now, I had avoided The Forum up to this point, for one reason and one reason alone -- Better Than Ezra. Oh, it's not that I have a burning hatred for BTE. Quite the opposite, in fact. It's just...I bloody well refuse to pay $25 to go see a band I saw DOZENS of times for FREE while I was in college. Call me crazy. It's a me thing. So, by association, I refuse to support any dive hole in the wall that would force me to turn over some of my heard-earned money (that could be better spent -- I don't know -- buying sea monkeys over the Internet) to go see a band that I pretty much own stock in.
But, this being Karen's birthday and all, I go.
...and here my troubles began.
Words fail me. I can not describe the enormity of the travesty that is The Forum. In between the hoochie mommas, the mullets, and the bartender whose cup size was clearly DD and her shirt size was XS (and it was an open chest shirt as well, much to the pain of all)...there was a kid there. A. Kid. She couldn't have been more than 13, and she was shooting pool. In the back room -- which was located next to the most unkempt and hygenically impaired kitchen imaginable. The best part was listening to the mouth on this kid. Man. She has a future in sales, lemme tell ya. I don't think that I've ever used some of the words she did. She dropped the "F-bomb" so many times, it was like experiencing Bosnia.
After some woman who looked like the body double of Patsy from AB FAB grabbed my ass while I was standing slack-jawed at the inbred troglodytes around me...I cashed my chips in. Birthday be damned, and the vodka tonic I was drinking was weaker than my fortitude at this point. So, I left. I went someplace sane -- Fenian's. Nothing says "Welcome Home" like an Irish pub. -- yeah, okay, so it's in Mississippi. Big deal. Like I care.
...'course, I did eventually come back to campus to see a "WELCOME, HELL'S ANGELS" sign on the side of one of the fraternity houses here. And people wonder why I take so much medication for migraines. Honestly.