From Ice to Ice :: Jack and Coke on Ice that is

I spent all week at the rink. Finding out that I would be back working in San Jose in March motivated me to really get back onto my skates. I'll be working on Les Miz and I'm assured there will be little or no time for myself. Apparently the schedule on that show is grueling. That and the daily commute show exhaust me sufficiently. My only worry is my wrist. I hope its healed enough to be working again so soon. I really didn't expect to get a call this soon.

As for skating, I've got my back crossovers now. It's so exciting. I can also switch from either side to crossover forwards and backwards. I did my first jump this week - The Waltz Jump. I can do the reverse also. So many firsts this week :: Two foot spin with 4 revolutions and a Lift!!! I got to do a forward Skating Spiral Lift. That Lift was so incredibly awesome. I had so much adreneline pumping after doing that!!!! I put together a little combination too :: forward crossover, mohawk, backward crossover, waltz jump. So much fun if you don't count the three falls and incredible humongeous bruise on my left elbow... which I really don't. It's more like a badge of courage.

Last night was Andrea's Birthday. It took me a half an hour to find a spot to park. I guess I should have taken Tim's lead and parked on the sidewalk. Nice job and he was on time. Me, I was considering the double park and dash. Just a present hand off and on to the next thing. I got a spot and had a great time at the party. Just as it was getting started, I had to leave and meet up with CoCo. She flew in from LA last night. I've missed hooking up with here everytime she's been up lately.

We needed to call a Local 666 meeting, kick some ass, and take down some names. Not to mention find a new catch phrase. We hit the new Hiball which is called the Dragonbar and the Bamboo Hut. Afterwards, out for a little snack at the Steps of Rome. Well, maybe I should call that a meal. I'll say, it must have been idiot's night out last night in North Beach. That, or the two of us have "follow me loser" tattooed on our asses. I guess we still got "it". Whatever that is...

The minute we step out of the car and strut our stuff up the climb to Broadway Loser 1 and 2 hone in on what they misidentify as prey. Conversation intended to embarrass us enough to think they as cool as follows ::

Losers :: Hey are you going to Boys Toys too?? You want to come with us??

Local 666 :: That club sucks.

Losers :: Want to come with us to Boys Toys??

Local 666 :: Boys Toys sucks ass. That's such an original line by the way. Thank you.

Losers :: Well, why don't you come to the Crow Bar with us. You can buy us drinks.

Local 666 :: Yet another original line. Great bar though.

Losers :: You can buy us drinks...

Local 666 :: Whatever. <"L">

WHY WHY WHY????

On the way to the ATM, I decided that everyone was way ahead of us in the sloppy drunk aspect of an old fashioned Friday night out. We had a great deal of catching up to do. Nevermind, catching the eye of the local safety patrol, the obligatory drunk guy trying to start a meaningless fight outside the strip club, thug gangsta types eyeballin' the ass, and loser marina button up shirt wearing motherfuckers...

We hit the Bamboo first. Say hi to people, drink, dance to bad DJ. End up watching Co fend off Leather Jacketed I must prove I'm a wild and crazy guy. This guy spoke to us in an effort to find a better place to party. What better place is there? The Bamboo Hut was packed. Sure the DJ sucked but it was still a fun place to be. He was pretty crass about it. He wanted to find a bigger club with drunker girls than us and bigger tits than us. I told him to try Boys Toys. Sure it sucked but then again he looked like he did too. He went on and on and on and on and on... you get the picture. I dropped out of the conversation. Watching the rockers dance with two beers in fist was much more entertaining.

Then we got a transfer to the other club. The Dragonbar used to be what was the Casbah and the Illustrious Hiball of yore. The Hiball no more. We pretty much walked in and our jaws dropped not out of amazement mind you. Co summed it up as it looks like every other club in LA. It could be an ok place if the clientele shapes up. It was a pretty obnoxious crowd. Some freaky guy tried to insert himself into our spot and our conversation by calling us bar hogs. I so would have hooked him up with a drink if he wasn't such an ass. Assholes just can't help themselves can they?

So we bailed on Dragonbar, paid our respects at the Bamboo, and went to scarf at Steps. Our luck preceded us and we got ourselves sat next to the most unlikely pair. Nice guy, Chad - the kind of guy you would marry but not take home as a D&G and his buddy drunk Manchester MF. DMMF, as we will refer to him, started things out right by stealing my wrap and then touching my butt. I took the "piss" out of him directly by telling him loudly to stop touching my butt. Thank YOU very much.

DMMF thought that discussing politics of my country, the fact he's an illegal alien, and my obvious oblivion to anything that wasn't in a magazine was the way to my heart. I guess he was also ignoring the fact that I was taken. But he is a clever example of those who think they are deeper than others just out of school inbred thinkers. He was quick to judge, quick to speak, and quick to label me. When I told him to fuck off and get some facts, he did just that. It promptly made for a more enjoyable meal, discussion, and evening.

Chad, the nice guy, takes it ok when its obvious CoCo isn't into him and has a cool conversation with us. He's a little bummed when the mafioso looking 200 pound Italian guy that runs Steps offers to walk us to our car. Good thing, we let him because there was a lot of fucked up people out there on Broadway that time of night. Mafioso guy is on Co but will get no play.

Meeting adjourned and home to sleep off the Jack and Cokes.

Meeting Notes ::

A big shout out to Mafioso guy for hooking us up with security. Much Love. Much Love.

What up Dog to my crew at the Bamboo. Always mixing the finest to fuck ya up the most!

And my girl, don't let the playah get you down. Play the Playah. You know, we can get in the game and win.

GP baby. We don't recycle.