I woke up at 9:33 and remembered that the complimentary breakfast ended at 10:00.
I brushed my teeth, splashed some water on my face, grabbed my laptop and headed downstairs.
I threw a two-pack of mini-sausage biscuits in the microwave after stretching, twisting, and rolling the tiny red print away from the meat and in front of the bun so I could read for how long to microwave them. Not to mention that the font size was at about 6 points.
I toasted myself a bagel, and gave one of the sausage biscuits to Joe.
We also had coffee and orange juice.
Joe spent the afternoon with Pat and John, and I stayed at the hotel and worked on my mid-term, which is due on Monday.
I took a 30-minute lunch break, and walked past the KFC to the Rancho Viejo next door to it. I sat in the booth that the lady with the curly hair is sitting at in this picture:
They brought out what looked like a white con queso cheese with the salsa and chips, but when I dipped into it, I found out that it was some kind of fabulous ranch dip.
I had a taco salad (no beans), and some water.
Joe picked me up at 6:30, and took me back to Pat’s house, where we had a delicious dinner of homemade Chicken Alfredo Casserole, along with some killer bread.
We hung out there until about 9:15, then went back to the hotel for a very timed nap this time.
We got to The Park between 11:30 and midnight, and it was packed.
There was a group of four people in front of us in the line to get in who were trying to get in without an ID. English was not their native language, and for the most part they weren’t speaking it, which was slowing things down.
I didn’t mention it in yesterday’s entry but that bar, Backstreet, only served beer and wine. I was shocked that I couldn’t get a Bourbon & Diet. I drank beer, which is really not a pleasant experience for me.
This bar was the same way, but as I started my second beer, I noticed someone drinking a Bacardi cooler. Turns out they had:
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I hate raspberry, so I traded in my Miller Lite for an orange.
This bar had a huge mix of people — a lot of young people, and lots of people whose sexual orientation was hard to discern. It looked like a lot of bi kids and a lot of straight kids, too.
On at least two occasions, I saw a guy making out with a girl at one point, and then, later, saw him making out with a guy.
There was one girl who was with her boyfriend on the dance floor, and not way in the back or anything, but right up front facing the people standing along the side watching people dance, who was just going to town hump-dancing with him.
I mean it was non-stop genital gyrating for at least 10 minutes. And she was throwing her head back and making all these faces that I’m sure I’ve seen in straight porn when the girl is getting it real good.
This is not the first time I’ve seen straight couples do this. My question is: why come to a gay bar to do it? Can you imagine if a gay couple went to a straight bar and did likewise?
Joe met a guy named Alan, and spent most of the night chatting and dancing with him.
I spent most of the time by the corner of the bar watching, and enjoying, the very diverse crowd. I didn’t think about murder all night long.
What I did think about however, was the no-less-than seven people who bumped into me during the night — not one of whom said excuse me. That still blows my mind. Not one.