When the Spectrum Shifts
I try to get at least seven hours of sleep every night, though sometimes I shoot myself in the foot and stay up too late. On occasion, when I have some flexibility in my schedule the next morning, the entire spectrum of my schedule shifts. Normally, on a night when I might be in bed by about 22:15, the plan becomes to get up at about 06:00.
Last night, the spectrum shifted.
During my time in college, I never got into the club scene. Once I hit twenty-one, I would, on occasion, go to a pub and have a drink with a friend, but that's generally where it stopped. I can count on one hand and have fingers to spare the times I went to the local meat market and endured a couple of hours of deafening hip hop "music", generally on account of some friend wanting to go there.
Last night the Dark Horse Sandal Man and I met up at 19:00 at one of the two best pubs in town and had drinks and dinner, and discussed life, the universe, and everything for a couple of hours. We're both ostensibly graduates; we both have several incompletes that we're finishing up in order to get our degrees. The Dark Horse Sandal Man has just met a girl who, in the last two weeks, he's gotten extremely involved with a girl. I've essentially just accepted the fact that yes, I am single.
So, once we were done at the pub, just for kicks, we went to one of the local meat markets a couple of blocks away. It was a redneck bar through and through, with at least two broken pool tables out of the six or seven in the joint. I remember seeing about four, maybe five people sing karaoke, including a guy who was trying to look like Elvis; the best singer didn't have an especially pretty voice, but she was decent to listen to due to the fact that unlike the other singers she was both A) on key and B) on beat. The only remotely attractive woman in the place was a thirty-something year old blonde; eventually we quit playing pool and bailed, heading to the next stop.
The next stop didn't last long; of the six or seven people who were even there, there wasn't a single woman among them. We talked to one of the guys, and he informed us that this new place a mile or two away was the jumping night spot during the Summer. The Dark Horse Sandal Man wasn't particularly a fan of this spot, but he hadn't been there since new owners took over, and I wanted to at least sight in on some totty, even if I wasn't going to actually take a shot.
We arrived, and paid the three dollar cover. Immediately upon entry, even though the place was mostly empty, it was obvious that the ratio was much better than any of the other locations we'd visited: there were actually college girls to behold. We stayed for a couple of hours, but didn't get too involved, mainly continuing our prior conversation and shifting to another Fly Dating Horror Story. I had a second drink, and the Dark Horse Sandal Man had his sixth and seventh of the night. Eventually, around midnight, we hit the eject button, leaving the drunken college girls for the evening, as well as the deafening hip hop "music".
My ears are still ringing.
What was the net effect of this alteration in my usual evening plan? I arrived home at about 00:20, and went to bed as soon as possible, setting my alarm clock for 06:45. Normally, it most likely would have been set for 06:15. For one night, the spectrum shifted; a minimum of seven hours went back to the minimum of six hours that I loathed during my college days, and the time shifted to as early as possible without the infamy of getting up after 07:00 (which would have most likely prevented this blog post in the first place).
Right then, time for me to get my ass in gear. Be sure, ladies and gentlemen, to maintain your authenticity today; or, as the kids are saying it, "Keep it real." (Forgive them; they're only kids.)
Last night, the spectrum shifted.
During my time in college, I never got into the club scene. Once I hit twenty-one, I would, on occasion, go to a pub and have a drink with a friend, but that's generally where it stopped. I can count on one hand and have fingers to spare the times I went to the local meat market and endured a couple of hours of deafening hip hop "music", generally on account of some friend wanting to go there.
Last night the Dark Horse Sandal Man and I met up at 19:00 at one of the two best pubs in town and had drinks and dinner, and discussed life, the universe, and everything for a couple of hours. We're both ostensibly graduates; we both have several incompletes that we're finishing up in order to get our degrees. The Dark Horse Sandal Man has just met a girl who, in the last two weeks, he's gotten extremely involved with a girl. I've essentially just accepted the fact that yes, I am single.
So, once we were done at the pub, just for kicks, we went to one of the local meat markets a couple of blocks away. It was a redneck bar through and through, with at least two broken pool tables out of the six or seven in the joint. I remember seeing about four, maybe five people sing karaoke, including a guy who was trying to look like Elvis; the best singer didn't have an especially pretty voice, but she was decent to listen to due to the fact that unlike the other singers she was both A) on key and B) on beat. The only remotely attractive woman in the place was a thirty-something year old blonde; eventually we quit playing pool and bailed, heading to the next stop.
The next stop didn't last long; of the six or seven people who were even there, there wasn't a single woman among them. We talked to one of the guys, and he informed us that this new place a mile or two away was the jumping night spot during the Summer. The Dark Horse Sandal Man wasn't particularly a fan of this spot, but he hadn't been there since new owners took over, and I wanted to at least sight in on some totty, even if I wasn't going to actually take a shot.
We arrived, and paid the three dollar cover. Immediately upon entry, even though the place was mostly empty, it was obvious that the ratio was much better than any of the other locations we'd visited: there were actually college girls to behold. We stayed for a couple of hours, but didn't get too involved, mainly continuing our prior conversation and shifting to another Fly Dating Horror Story. I had a second drink, and the Dark Horse Sandal Man had his sixth and seventh of the night. Eventually, around midnight, we hit the eject button, leaving the drunken college girls for the evening, as well as the deafening hip hop "music".
My ears are still ringing.
What was the net effect of this alteration in my usual evening plan? I arrived home at about 00:20, and went to bed as soon as possible, setting my alarm clock for 06:45. Normally, it most likely would have been set for 06:15. For one night, the spectrum shifted; a minimum of seven hours went back to the minimum of six hours that I loathed during my college days, and the time shifted to as early as possible without the infamy of getting up after 07:00 (which would have most likely prevented this blog post in the first place).
Right then, time for me to get my ass in gear. Be sure, ladies and gentlemen, to maintain your authenticity today; or, as the kids are saying it, "Keep it real." (Forgive them; they're only kids.)
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