I went out to Downtown Springfield with five friends a couple weeks ago, and after grabbing a couple beers at this pretty chill spot, one of them (my roommate) went off with another girl. The rest of us went to this bar/club called Catch 22.
Let me tell you something about Catch 22: it really does live up to its name; no matter what you do, you're bound to get fucked while you're there. If it's not the lack of good looking girls, it's the drink prices. If it's not the drink prices, it's the fact that the floors are stickier than the ones at the peep show. If it's not the sticky floors, it's the abundance of belligerent customers who fight and/or get kicked out.
So, after paying a $5 cover charge, I entered the club hesitantly. Another of our six had been there for a while already and was in her happy zone drink-wise. She was already out on the dance floor with someone else. So there are three guys, including me, and one other girl left at this point. She asks if we want to dance. And give up this couch that 20,000 other people at this club are waiting to get on? No thank you. I'll enjoy the view from the couch.
But since the other two guys went out there, I was screwed; I either had to go out there or sit on the couch like the loser who got left behind. So I went out there. Let me just say this; 1 girl, two straight guys, and a gay guy standing in an awkward circle while everyone around them is dancing is not an enviable position to be in.
After two beers and the most awkward dance circle I've seen in a long time, I drove home. Hopefully this is not a sign of things to come on St. Patrick's Day. Oh well. At least there was a hot dog truck outside the bar to feed the drunk, hungry masses.
Cheers!
No comments :
Post a Comment