The towel with which he wiped his face left this image

As the wise and sage-like Gary Busey once said, “Son of a bitch everything’s real,” I too spent my eve teetotaling, and realized there is much to learn while the mind is clean and the thoughts are clear.  Namely, I have to write in a pretentious tone, and make use of odd phrasings and word choices. 

Fuck that.  Here’s some things I learned the night I decided not to drink and still hit four bars.  (Maybe that’s how I lasted for four bars… I can get sleepy when I do the brew.)  (Image from Drawastar)

Chapter One – Buffalo Wild Wings

• Sarcasm doesn’t work in text messages.  I knew this was the case with emails, but for some reason that didn’t translate in my brain.  Basically, I hurt sumbuwy’s feewings.
• Edith Bunker was the first TV character to experience menopause, and not Maude.  Who knew that Norman Lear spread the wealth of taboo around?  (FYI: Maude was the first to have an abortion.)
• “Rolling Stone” magazine changed its size.  They went smaller and quite frankly it looks wrong.

Chapter Two – One Under Bar and Grill

• Paying cover for a band sucks when you show up right before their set ends, and the group decides to leave before the next set starts because the overall scene is lame.  Even if it’s $3.  And even though you didn’t pay it (thanks Doctor J).
• The Trivia Jockey from my usual Wednesday stop hits this bar after leaving the other bar.  Not a big deal.  Just if I was a couple pillow cases to the wind I wouldn’t have noticed.
• Everybody knows a dude that looks like Al Pacino.

Chapter Three – Kickers Complex (I just learned that’s what it’s called!)

• It’s equally nice and sad to be recognized by bartenders.
• You never want to hear a man sing Sara Bareilles’ “Love Song.”  Not even in an ironic way.  Trust me.
• This song is supposedly popular, although I’ve never heard of it. 
  I know it’s country, but I’m familiar with the biggies.  This one?  I never even heard of its name.  Also, the two dudes singing David Allen Coe no favors.
• Karaoke in an empty bar sucks.

Chapter Four – Plymouth Roadhouse

• It’s equally nice and sad to be recognized by the bartender and the waitress.
• When big screen projection TV’s are on their last legs, they look like crooked bootleg DVD’s of movies, minus people walking in front.
• In theory, nobody knows shit about what’s going to happen to the Big Three Automakers.  The proof (as if you need it) is in the fact that everybody heard and knows something different.  Some of my favorite speculations: Ford will be picking up Jeep from GM, Chrysler will go bye-bye, GM will absorb Chrysler’s minivan division and make Dodge Ram their only truck, and Ford will get bought out by the Chinese but will keep the family name as part of the agreement.
• And in closing, I learned that what Cerebus did in securing Chrysler was a lot like what Richard Gere’s character did in “Pretty Woman.”  They both bought a product at a reduced cost solely to strip it down and liquidate it for profit.  In essence – treat it like a whore (a regular one though… not Julia Roberts).