No, your eyes do not deceive you – Thelma actually crossed the bypass and ventured into an alien bar out east. Without her partner in crime. The experience was horrifying from the beginning. As soon as she walked through the door she was bombarded by loud, thumping club music and a ginormous crowd of d-bags. It took her half an hour to get a drink (now you know why we love our Clovertenders). She lost the people she came with and was terrified out of her mind. The most heart-wrenching part of this whole ordeal? She cried…all alone, outside the bar. We were concerned it had caused permanent damage and that she’d be traumatized for life...
Fortunately Louise returned from the ‘Ham and the situation almost immediately improved. On Monday we decided to make a night of it in hopes of reversing the damage caused by hitting the craggy depths of Rock Bottom. Mission accomplished. All (well, most) is right with the world now!
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4 comments:
As king krunkle, I always wear a ginormous crown of d-bags-
Oh, dear Lord, not two of us!!!! I was there on Friday night and it was as utterly terrifying as you said. Please, friends, don't make the same mistake we did. The damage is irreversible. Thank goodness for Cloverdale and the therapeutic, bad-memory-eraser Carbomb.
I am so sorry, but it appears that everything worked out in the end.
It happened to me! Halloween night I ventured into the cavernous den of debauchery in an attempt to appease several friends at once...and I am afraid the repurcussions may be lasting. I ran into a couple of people who had blessedly forgotten they had my phone number over the years. Now they remember. Crapcakes!
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