So Favourite Bartender had a birthday last Friday.† I took him a bottle of wine on Saturday and he told me this very funny story:
He and his girfriend and a bunch of friends were bar-hopping LoDo,‡ when someone said, "Hey, let's go to the titty bar!"%
Brooks's first blush was to worry what his girfriend would think, but she was all for it.
So they went to La Bohème. And someone bought Brooks a lap dance.
The lap dancer sat him down, turned her back to him, straddled him, bent over, then... walked away.
Everybody just sat for a moment, sure she was coming back.
[SUMMARY: Customer service in this country is just going down the tubes.]
As the disgruntled lap dancee, Brooks went to the manager and turned on the charm and drama,§ "My friends paid their hard-earned money to buy me a lap dance... on my BIRTHDAY..."
The manager was largely unmoved by the tragic tale, saying, "Yeah, we'll check the film later. Here's a voucher for your lap dance."
And he gave Brooks a coupon.
Saturday night at the bar, he said, "So... what? I'm supposed go up to any stripper and say, 'I have a coupon...'"
I really wish I could've snapped a pic of the lap dance voucher for you.
I really, really wish I could've gotten some video of Brooks saying, "I have a coupon" in that mildly retarded, slack jawed voice he used.
But it's funny anyway.
[SUMMARY: Well, laugh.]
Borneo 1834 - Serge Lutens (edp)
Marin says: I have a history with this perfume.
See, when I professed my love for patchouli, eBeth told me about this in the comments. Marin be Marin, I rushed over to The Perfumed Court to order some.
A few days later, eBeth and I were at Book Club and she produced hers from her pocket so I could try it. I put a dab on the back of my hand. I started out surreptitiously nuzzling the scented spot, but went to full-on, devil-may-care public snorking as the night wore on. I think I spent a good five minutes doing meditative breathing on it when I got in bed that night.
It was wet as wet could be, like the richest black earth and wet wood just after a rain. The patchouli wove in and out of it with great sensuality and depth. I was enamoured.
Mine arrived in the mail shortly thereafter and went into the heart-shaped perfume dish on my dresser.
It was raining this morning, so I thought it would be a perfect mood accessory. I sprayed some on my wrists and fantasised about a day of secret wrist love.
It went on in a burst of cocoa.¶ Then it deflated. Now it's just kind of flat. And not that wet. Dusty, even. And the patchouli... I don't really get patchouli so much.
I have theories (those of you who already heard my theories can skip to Hans's review -- I know that's why most of you tune in anyway):
- Mine sat for several hours in my mailbox. Maybe it got hot and degraded a little.
- eBeth gets the little sample vials with the toothpick-like wand in them. I get little spray bottles. Maybe spraying it caused a lot of air to mix in or a finer, thinner coating of scent.
- Actually, I thought maybe I was in a different place in my cycle last time, but last time was July 16, so it's right about the same time, hormone-wise. Huh.
Where did my lovely, lovely, intoxicating scent go?
I think I'm going to wait a couple of weeks and try it again.#
The Perfumed Court says: A woody chypre with notes of Indonesian patchouli, floral notes, galbanum, patchouli, cacao$ accord, mahogany, ebony, cardamom, and ciste†† labdanum. Borneo 1834 is an eau de parfum, edp. This is a European exclusive and is not available in the United States.‡‡
Hans says: It smells like cornbread. With honey.
†FOOTNOTE (crossed): Luck 8/8/08.
‡FOOTNOTE (double-crossed): Lower Downtown -- the hip part of town.
%FOOTNOTE (percented): I'm betting it was a guy.
§FOOTNOTE (swerved): "We'd had a couple of drinks by then," he says. Which may explain why his girfriend was so enthusiastic about seeing naked women.
¶FOOTNOTE (paragraphed): Not chocolate, mind you -- cocoa.
#FOOTNOTE (pounded): 'Cause, you know, if you do the same thing two or three times, maybe you'll get the result you want eventually. Remind me to tell you a story about a goose.
††FOOTNOTE (ddouble-ccrossed): I found nothing on ciste labdanum. Near as I can tell, "ciste" is Gaellic for "chest." And that doesn't make much sense, does it?
‡‡FOOTNOTE (doubble-crossssed): I left that in there. That way you'll fully understand why I'm fighting so hard for this to work. Y'know... exclusivity, limited edition, not available anywhere... the stuff that makes Marin dork.