Friday, I took a half-day and met Kelley, who also only worked a half-day† and was starting her two week vacation. We had lunch, shopped a little, visited Kelly the Bartendress and Fast Eddie, popped by Favourite Bar and hung out with The Boy. And Sex Toy. Until the two of them got weird and abandoned us, so we went to Patrick Carroll's, which I liked a lot.
See, Kelley pretty much has Favourite Bar wrapped. Don't matter that I was there the second day they were open (not for the bar, mind you -- I used to get take-out elk medallions about once a week for dinner) and was a regular, known by name to several bartenders, for a year before I even met Kelley. Don't matter that I go in there all the time by myself. It's still Kelley's bar.
But Patrick Carroll's? Patrick Carroll's is definitely my bar. When Kelley and I walked in, the bar was crowded and we decided to walk down to see if there were two seats we could cobble together. By the time we got to the centre of the bar, Jim had shuffled a guy down and had my Smithwick's on a coaster and waiting for me.
It's good to be a rock star.
[SUMMARY: Do I think I'm a rock star AGAIN?]
Cute Jim, making Marin points on the evening.
Shylin (sp?) and Cute Christopher as well.
After a single, lonely beer and a shot, The Boy called Kelley and asked us to come back, so we did. Because, y'all know... I'm not quite over the whole Boy thing.
I may be an idiot. But maybe not.
[SUMMARY: Bars & boys & The Boy. Check.]
So we went back to Favourite Bar, where Sex Toy was adamant that we (he and me) should spend a little quality time when he was done for the night. Then he quit (his night job, suddenly, under a cloud of ill will) and was in a pissy mood, so said, "Not tonight, dear," and that was that. He promised to call Saturday.
Here's a fun little tweak to the weekend: The Male Lady showed up for the first time in weeks right about then, and Kelley decided she missed the Male Lady. She insisted that Male Lady is really a good person, that everything would have been OK except that The Boy fucks everything up, that Male Lady and your dear ol' AntiM would probably get along really well, but...
- Ship has sailed. There was a point when I was willing to go so far as to be civil to the Male Lady in public places and other people's houses for the sake of the comfort of others. Lookin' out for the world, that's just how I roll. That pretty much went out the window when she called me a fucking bitch and picked a fight at Favourite Bar.
- The Boy and I were getting along pretty well Friday. He's newly uncled‡ and I think the endorphins of delivery are still swimming in his veins, 'cause we talked a lot and he was all mellow and nice and wanted to be Marin's friend. Consequently, Kelley was in a down-phase with The Boy, 'cause if he and I are getting along, she's pissy about him and if I'm pissy about him, she defends him to the end of the earth. I'm not sure how much of that is by design. I'd really rather not think about it too much. In any case, I wasn't really down with the whole "Everything would have been fine if it wasn't for The Boy" path.
Here's a question I'd like to put out to the peeps: Do you think people are more honest when they're drunk?
[SUMMARY: Of course I have a reason for asking. And yes, cagey is my middle name.]
Then Saturday I kicked back for most of the day, did summa that knittin' stuff what y'all like so much, and got ready to go back out Saturday night.
Kelley's friend, Gina, was in town from Texas for a few days, and her dad§ is head of security at Le Rouge, which is a pretty hip spot here in Denverish. Lines around the block, maddening crowds¶, outrageous drink prices... all the things that mark a truly hip venue.
Here are the girls at our reserved table.#
Robin, Denise, Gina, Kelley: VIPs
If you have a really good memory or a weird trick memory that holds on to odd bits (see: Darjeeling means "land of the thunderbolt"), you may remember Touch from St. Patrick's Day. He bought me a couple of drinks and presented each with a kiss... not because Touch (young, adorable Touch) is into AntiM, just because Touch is Touch.
See? Same shirts.
They also managed to knock over those drinks you see in the bottom left onto the table three times. I spent a lot of the night picking ice cubes out of my purse.
On the way home, Kelley got that old time religion and re-renounced the Male Lady with a hardy whatthefuckwasIthinking.
[SUMMARY: Bars & boys & klutziness. Check.]
[SUMMARY: Bars & The Boy & Knitting. Check.]
[SUMMARY: Knitting. Check.]
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Can you say, "train wreck"?
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): As in, he just became an uncle. Not that he just got an uncle. That would be weird and improbable.
+FOOTNOTE (plussed): The music was so loud my ass was vibrating. It made the garage door at the golf course look (feel?) like butterfly wings.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): Kelley bone connected to the Gina bone, Gina bone connected to the Daddy bone, Daddy bone connected to the Le Rouge bone...
[SUMMARY: Yada. Yada. Yada.]