My Weekend, Part 1

I had a very "interesting" weekend all around. I have so much to write about that I have to break it up into two parts (the second part will be posted on Wednesday). Enjoy:

Straight-Bashed

A limousine filled with 2 heterosexual couples, a homosexual couple, and two sisters – sound like an interesting time? Don’t answer that! We celebrated my wife’s friend’s birthday in style on Friday night (obviously, she is also my friend), by renting a limo for 5+ hours, and driving to a bunch of bars/clubs throughout the Philly. We went to typical places one would expect to go to in the City of Brotherly Love that night – places in Manayunk, Center City, and Old City – all kinds of places, from fancy (Tangerine, Derricks), to laid back (The Cherry Street Tavern) – drinking everything from beer to Martinis and wine.

By about 12:30 a.m., we were pretty drunk, but really not all that bad. The gay couple (I’m not sure if that is PC, but I mean nothing negative by it) wanted to go to a gay bar called Woody’s (can’t make that one up, folks) – hey I’ve never been to one of these places before, but I’m willing to try anything. We get in there, and immediately, it felt like the record skipped – this is probably not going to be quite what I expected. The place seemed nice enough, just tons of well-dressed men talking extremely close to one-another.

I went to the bathroom – probably a mistake on my part. I felt many, many eyes on me, and I ended up getting stage-fright. For you straight guys who may, for some reason, find yourself at a gay bar, it is probably best to go to the bathroom in numbers greater than 1. I felt like a piece of meat (a good cut, obviously).

When I got out of the bathroom, I went to the bar with the other straight guy in our group. For some reason, the bartender refused to serve him, because he was “too intoxicated.” In looking around the place, I noticed many, many people that were not only more intoxicated than us, but also high as a kite. I “understood” immediately, that we really weren’t welcome here. Of course, the gay couple in our group immediately blended in with the other “patrons” of the establishment.

Then, I went to look for my wife, and found her and the birthday girl being confronted by two security guys (also queer as a three dollar bill). The security guard informed them that THEY were also too drunk, and asked them to leave the premises. The birthday girl was NOT AT ALL pleased with this, as even though she was a little tipsy, by no means was she THAT drunk. She began yelling and cursing at these two guards, asking what the hell she did so wrong that she was being asked to leave. The guards offered her no other reason, other than being too drunk.

I decided to follow them out, as I did not want to be the only straight guy left in a place called Woody’s. I have these visions of these guys tying me up to a wall and playing “Pin the Tail on the Hetero,” only they wouldn’t be using tails.

As we were being escorted out, the birthday girl got more heated, and started calling the security guards “pickle chuggers!” I think I may have heard this term once in my life prior to this occasion, and hey – I don’t normally condone name-calling and attacks to a person’s race, religion, or sexual preference … however, the term pickle chugger was hysterical. She was screaming this at the top of her lungs … and I had to pull her aside and inform her that she may be offending the 1000+ pickle chuggers on the inside of the bar. Needless to say, they called the cops on us, and we were told by the men in blue to leave or get arrested. We chose to leave (thankfully).

But, the bottom line on this is, we were mistreated by a segment of the population that I thought would not be capable of this (considering that they most likely know how it feels to be discriminated against). I was standing right near these two security pickle-chuggers (sorry, I couldn’t resist), and they started making snide comments about the birthday girl. I immediately got in their faces and told them to shut the f**k up. One of the security guards said something to the effect of “We can talk about anybody we want, and we don’t need to listen to your kind.” Oh, that’s right – get the German blood flowing, guys – that’s a real good idea … especially considering that I’ve already filled the tank with fuel (alcohol). I must’ve hulked up or something, because a roar, that started in the pit of my stomach made it’s way up my esophagus, through my mouth, and scared the living piss out these guys – they immediately stopped talking, and hung their heads the rest of the time I was there.

So, to recap, not only did I go to a gay bar, but I got kicked out of one for not being gay … I love this country! On a funny side note, my wife, the next morning, said “I found it strange that there were really only guys inside that gay bar,” to which I responded, “Honey, it’s called Woody’s, not Clam’s.”


Funny Wife Comment:
I was clipping coupons (they probably would’ve served me at Woody’s had they known that tidbit), when I came across a coupon for Vagisil. I asked my wife if she needed any, to which she responded, “I’ve seen you scratching your balls a lot, maybe they should come out with a product called ‘Testisil.’” That’s my baby!

Funny Comment To My Wife:
My wife asked me on Sunday, if I liked her jewelry, to which I responded, “I really like your bracelet … I bet you could probably catch a fish with it.” Good times.