Thursday, April 26, 2007

My odyssey:

The diet book I've been following (You: On a Diet) suggests that, if one is a drinker, a single drink of alcohol at the end of the evening meal can promote reduction of HDL cholesterol. To that end, I've been planning to buy a bottle of something (probably gin) to have a sip of at the end of the day.

Last night I thought I'd kill two birds. I'd make the nearest liquor store my walking destination, pick up a bottle, head home, have a nip, and hit the hay. Unfortunately, though I'm not averse to alcohol, I don't often buy it, so I didn't know where the nearest liquor store might be. After a quick Google search, I learned there were two, so I set off to the one that seemed most convenient.

It wasn't long, though, before I started to question my decision. It was about a mile and a half away, and that would be a lot more walking than I really wanted to do. Also, I wasn't sure if the store would be open past 9pm. After a few blocks, my plan changed. I knew there were a few bars and clubs a lot closer to home, so I decided to stop at one of them, have my drink, and toddle on home afterward.

The closest establishment to where I was then was in the back of a strip mall. I walked around and discovered no vehicles in the parking lot. The place was closed. No problem, I thought, the Sheridan Lounge was on my way home (by one route, at least) and they'd been hopping the one time I went there before. As I approached the bar, though, I saw a lone pickup parked off to the side, and again, the place was locked up tight. Is there something about Wednesday nights that makes bars a no-no?

I looked across the street at the Elysium Gentleman's Club, but I really didn't feel like paying a cover charge on top of my beverage cost, and wasn't happy about the idea of adding lustful thoughts to my tally of sins for the evening. I was going to hit one of the Mexican restaurants and maybe get a Negro Modela or Dos Equis, but as I was rounding that corner, I spied about a dozen cars around the entrance of Fusion, a nightclub I've never been to.

I walked up to the Fusion doorway and noted that it was Ladies' Night, and there was no cover for gentlemen before 10:00. Good news. Then I saw the dress code sign. Everything seemed okay, except for one item: No Hoodies. I'd worn my work clothes: black chinos and a collared sport shirt, but I threw a hoodie on for warmth on my expected Liquor Trek. Aha! But I'd also brought along a small backpack. I quickly removed the hoodie, stuffed it in my pack, and walked in.

Now, I haven't been to a nightclub in many years. Since college, in fact. And that was in a relatively small Kansas town. I was ill prepared for the process I was asked to go through. Once I got the attention of the callow youth in the fauxhawk and Staff shirt, I was asked to:
Surrender my bag for a search.
Leave the bag at the desk (why'd they search it, then? Bombs?).
Show my I.D. (not unexpected).
Get patted down.
Get my hand stamped.

To show you how uninitiated I am, this was the first time I realized that there are hidden fluorescent watermarks on Oklahoma drivers' licenses. All this, and I walked into a huge room with three women, half a dozen guys, and about as many employees. I paid $3.75 for a bottle of Guinness, drank it, and left. Five minutes, including a trip to the men's room.

Seemed like an awful lot to go through for one drink. On my way home from my afternoon errand today, I stopped and bought a bottle of gin. From now on, I drink at home.

Oh, 45 minutes of walking, by the way.


kittent said...

just goes to show...when you quit hanging around with reprobates you get out of the habit of carousing!!!!


Karl said...

I was never really in the habit. I've always been a straitlaced little dork.