 | The Jackass Chronicles Pt. I
I really shouldn't be allowed to go out, and giving me booze should be upgraded to a federal offense.
It is now 1:30 in the afternoon and I'm still a little drunk from last night. I took Bridget out for her birthday last night: we decided on a seemingly mild mannered evening of wine bar and a show at Schubas. Brooke and Jack completed our entourage, and they showed up at my place around 6pm. I had already put back one cocktail by this point, and we gathered some alcoholic reinforcements from the Fruteria to wait for Bridget to show. Bridget is always late, so we had time to go through a few more drinks in the interim.
Gin Makes You Sin
I managed to behave myself at the wine bar, albeit I was drinking Viognier rather than my usual cocktail. I didn't menace anyone or throw glasses, but I reached critical alcohol mass halfway through my first pint at Schubas. Here's what happened:
We were suffering through the first band, and they were fucking awful. Additionally, they were all wearing various articles of women's clothing. Not fun party dresses ala Pansy Division like you'd expect from a band full of dudes that are doing some jokey crossdressing. It was more demure but that's not a good thing; it looked like they rooted around in a 60 year old woman's closet and just grabbed the first handful of whatever and put it on. I will give props to the trombone/guitar player for his thoroughly amusing dance-like marching and huge curled mustache drawn on with marker. His fly was also down for the whole show.
In any case, the music was shit and I took it upon myself to let them know. Not particularly loud, I said "Go away" rather blandly a few times after they finished songs. This dumbass bitch behind me took giant offense to this and felt compelled to tell me that "it's not easy to get up there and play, don't be insulting!" in her best Lincoln Park aghast at humanity tone. Now, I call her a dumbass bitch because I went from insulting the band to menacing her, but can you really blame me? She made herself a target. I looked her in the face and said "Shut the fuck up, you stupid cunt! Good lord, girl, you've got some nerve speaking your mind to me. Get gone now before I shove your ass in traffic." Naturally, she was shocked. Brooke asked me what was going on and I told her "the stupid bitch behind me had something dumb to say" and went back to drinking. I am nonchalantly cruel and mean.
We came to see Baby Dayliner and he was on next. He was being awfully slow "setting up" (come on, it's one dude and a suitcase, what's to set up?) so I heckled the poor guy. I said "Stop fucking around and play some music". I was only about 5 feet away and the look on his face when he turned around was priceless. Very surprised and also kinda pissed, then more surprised to see the perpetrator standing there smiling pleasantly at him.
Baby Dayliner put on a fantastic set, you all should have been there, and his dancing was off the hook. I decided to try to pick him up after the show. He's hot and I'm retarded, it was inevitable. I complimented his set, introduced myself, he introduced himself, and proceeded to make more eye contact with my tits than my actual face. I can't really blame him, he was poised on the stage for a great few down my dress which was very low cut to begin with (such is the reason I didn't get kicked out for menacing other patrons, heckling the bands, or smoking where I wasn't supposed to repeatedly. Oh, I also got into it with one of the bouncers because he accused Bridget of sneaking in the side door we were standing near during the show. I told him not to be such an asshole and to fuck off). Anyhoo, Baby Dayliner wouldn't come out drinking with us because he said he had to hang around for the headlining group and we were leaving right then. Oh well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
On a fun side note, the last time Bridget and I went to Schubas, we spent the night drinking with Mojo Nixon and the guys in his band. We had seen and met them all the night prior at a show they did in Batavia, and they demanded we go see them the next night too. It was tits: we walked into Schubas and Mojo stopped mid song to annouce to the crowd "Hey! There's the cool girls we met last night!". This would all probably be much more impressive if anyone I know actually knows who Mojo Nixon is. Shame on all of you, he did an album with Jello Biafra for chissakes.
We left Schubas to go meet some of Bridget's friends in Lincoln Square, where we managed to put back even more booze. Sippin' on gin and juice, laid back, with my mind on my money and my money on my mind. Yep, I was singing the song in the bar with a few of the guys. I believe I told everyone I was black, and possibly also Snoop Dogg. People who know me hear crap like this all the time, but I had just met these dudes. We were all so damn lit, I can't imagine they took much notice.
After the bar closed, we hit up the nearest taqueria, where one of the dudes Bridget knows tried to cop a feel on her surreptitiously under the table. Can't really blame him either, we were all shitfaced and Bridget a pretty girl. However, he has a girlfriend, and no amount of drunkenness makes cheating on your girl or boyfriend allowable. Cad. Besides renaming Bridget's friend Jonas "The Great Pumpkin", I was about as well behaved as could be expected. I didn't hit anybody.
It was after 4am, me and B went back to my place to chill. I opted for another wildly inadvisable cocktail, likely leading to the surprisingly long lived drunk that I'm still enjoying now. Presently, Bridget and I are sitting in my living room screwing around on our respective computers, and Jody is on his way over to do the same. There's no tp in the house, but I'm hesitant to go out for more. My earlier trip into the outside world resulted in me calling someone a dickhead for blowing a stop sign, but I wouldn't have had to do that if he hadn't stopped his car to ask me why I gave him the finger.
St. Patrick's Day appears to make me crazier than usual, this is why I usually stay home.
Jillian, Resident Jackass |
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