I'd jokingly call it a blind date, but saying that I was blind-sided would perhaps be a better phrase to use. James heard about TK101 throwing a Hooters bikini contest in Daphne, and I made my way down there. Turns out we were the only two to make it, cause the rest of y'all are just losers. =P
First thing that was odd was how long it took to get there. Assuming backtracking north to Saraland just to take I-65 and I-165 would be around the same as simply riding Schillenger's till it met with I-10, I may have made the incorrect choice as it took fucking forever to get there. I forgot just how long it took to get to the Eastern Shore. It didn't help that I found the first and second people ever to do the speed limit on the Bayway...unfortunately, they were in both lanes, completely blocking the damn road not unlike the now famous Atlanta video.
I finally arrive, however, to see the restaraunt was behind a steel road seperator blocking off a smaller service road. So, I pull two consecutive U-turns to make it onto said service road. Instead of holding the contest on the bar like one would expect, they roped off the entire front parking lot to make room. Though 99% of the crowd was all bunched up within ten feet of the stage on all sides, the rest of the space as open and free as Linux source code. Yes, you heard me - I'm the only person you'll ever meet that can and will combine uber-geekdom with half-nekkid Hooters girls strutting around on stage to be ogled at by drunk rednecks. *chuckles*
It took a few minutes to drive to the back lot, turn around, and exit, seeing how cars were parked in the lanes to the point that it was a small miracle that my landyacht was able to squeeze through there. I saw a few places I could pull it up to dock, but I didn't want to be an asshole and assumed that other people would need that room to, you know, drive. No one wants to be blocked in, after all, though later I would see that a dozen more vehicles were stuffed in that lot in areas that I could have parked, and some that were creative enough that I never would have imagined.
I see most people heading to Krystals next door. Being the smart guy that I am, I go to IHOP instead, the other neighbor in the opposite direction. An illegally parked truck would blend in to a sit-down resteraunt far better than a drive-thru fast food chain. I bebop in, put up with the expected mocking of why haven't I bought my bike yet and the pointing out of dozens of small nooks I could have parked in had I showed up on two wheels instead of four, and make my way inside.
We're stuck standing there for quite a while. James makes some small talk with these two girls that are waiting in line ahead of us while thumbing through a bike magazine they had next to the register, while I'm kicked back and watching the people go by. Considering the type of event to be held later on that night, most were not all that unpleasant to look at.
The hostess looks at the two ahead of us, asks how many seats they need, then turns to us and tells us to come with her, since we only needed two spots. Since we were both starving by this point, we gladly follow. So do the two girls who were waiting on friends of theirs. They force us both to sit down at the same table, for some odd reason, and don't really give us much of a choice about it. And those two girls made sure that we, and every employee in the store, knew that "they didn't know us". This was told to every Hooters Girl that strutted past, every single time they were within earshot. And though once was more than enough, the first of the two girls kept on repeating that they weren't comfortable sitting with us, they didn't know us, and "no offense, but..." and then proceeded to make us seem like serial rapists or what have you.
Well, no offense, but I didn't particularly want to be sitting with their ugly asses, either. The first was Jumbo McFatty...a large girl who had no reason to be showing as much flesh as she was. Whenever she wasn't eyeing us suspiciously and telling us everything except that we were horrible people that should be kept at a safe distance from her and her friend, she was tugging at her already a-litte-too-low-cut top and bragging to anyone willing to listen that she would easily take first prize in the swimsuit competition should she have chosen to enter. Well, yeah, those were as big as she was claiming (perhaps even too big, in my opinion), but they damn sure weren't all that impressive considering everything else on the girl was at least three times bigger. Her friend, who just had to sit across from me, was Steamboat
Meanwhile, the table directly behind us is surrounded by drunk-off-their-asses assholes. My nerves are shot just from the volume of their voices, but when one started accidentally kicking against my chair and elbowing me, I turned around ready to implant my beer bottle into his face in a most unpleasant way. But I overhear that one of the drunks is a manager there, so I turn and grit my teeth and wait for my meal. Which not-so-surprisingly arrives at exactly 8:00pm, when the contest is supposed to start.
I eventually overhear that the police are outside and towing anyone out of the IHOP lot. So, I break away mid-meal and rush over there. It was rather cool how I managed to slip directly past the police officers...they were directly between me and my truck, but I kept my poker face up and walked confidently towards the store, before making a last-second right turn and quickly heading for my ride. They probably had already looked away by that point, but what the fuck were they going to do even if they did notice? They had their hands full with another fellow, and I slipped out of there in a hurry.
I drove to the Krystal lot, already having heard that it was safe. I see one spot, the very first one near the road, but too late to make it with my pathetic turn radius. Not a problem...I'll just drive a circle around the building, bypassing the drive-thru, and pull straight into that spot. Brilliant idea, if not for the fact that some dumbass in a white Ford pickup parked in the middle of the drive-thru. I pull around and see that, only to find it's no longer an option to back up. I'm stuck there. The drive-thru customers are stuck there. The Hooters staff has probably thought that I've bailed on the check by this point. Eventually, some old black guy slowly walks out of the restaraunt holding a bag, gets in his truck, and pulls away. If I were the first truck in line, I'd have long since been tempted to use my big block 454 to simply push the offending vehicle out of the way, or definitely run over the idiot for the sake of the greater good once I finally saw the man himself.
Fortunately(?), there was some import car between me and it. They get their drive-thru order and pull away, I swing back around to look at the space that I had been eyeing and find that an undercover police car had pulled into that space. Instead of trying for any other spaces along that row, figuring that those few would likewise be taken and not wanting to be so close to the cops, I get the bright idea to head another parking lot over, hiding along the far side of the Taco Bell parking lot.
I walk back, overhearing "Mark the Shark" announcing contestant #1, and head back inside to wolf down the rest of my now-cold burger. By this point, Fatty and Smokey's two friends were there, the girl standing and talking and the guy sitting down across from me and choking back chicken wings. By that point, Fatty had apparently raised such a fuss that our waitress came by multiple times to appologize, and eventually a manager came by several more times to figure things out. Took him at least half a dozen tries to finally "get" that the left side of the table didn't know the right, and that was after I had gotten fed up and blurted out something about it being the North versus the South, exaggerated hand motions seperaing "us" from "them". He gave both sets of customers half off their meals, as well as coupons for free wings and beer, so that was pretty damn cool at least.
The best part was, while the mob crowded around the stage outside waiting and hoping for the more scantily clad than usual Hooters Girls to arrive, they apparently disrobed somewhere either in an employee changing room or behind the store or something. As a result, they all had to march slowly in from the kitchen area through the now mostly empty store, all while in their barely-there swimwear. We definitely had the best seats in the house, far better than any fleeting glimpses we had while outside at the actual contest. After we got outside and started to peek and peer through the interposing heads and hands, we quickly realized that as we walked circles around the stage before eventually finding a gap in the crowd that, from a distance, provided a clear line of sight.
And it was just then that I hear that IHOP and Krystals were now offering parking, provided that you went inside and requested some kind of ticket to put on your dash or on your windshield or something. I, of course, had the brilliant idea of parking multiple parking lots away, and had to walk all the way back. I didn't know if Taco Bell was even doing the whole "ticket" thing, though if not I had good reason to believe they were doing the whole "tow your sorry ass away" thing. I walk back, and James follows suit just to hang out and talk while I'm off doing my thing. I eventually decide "fuckitall" and leave, figuring that I've already seen everything I felt like seeing, and not wanting to stand and twist and turn my bad back just for a few fleeting glances at some girl in a swimsuit. I'm straight, but dammit, I'm not that desperate...it's just a girl in a bikini, for crying out loud.
Funniest thing of all is that's only half of what really happened, but I can't think of the rest at the moment. Everything was just wierd all the way around...the good and the bad balanced each other out, but it remained quite odd nontheless.
Friday was short and sweet, at least compared to the many happenings of the day before. It rained for the first time in two months, a brief shower while the sun was still out. Having not really seen any rain in a long, long time, it seemed kind of alien. Especially with the sun still out and shining...it was all kind of surreal.
Also kind of dangerous, because with as awesome as "The Truck" is, it'll hydroplane if you spill a Coke in front of it. I realized this a little too late, thinking incorrectly that the brief shower hours earlier couldn't have affected driving conditions. An asshat in front of me hits the brakes rather hard, almost missing his turn into the Sonic on Moffatt Road. I step firmly on my brakes as well, perhaps with more pressure than I really needed. My wheels lock, and by rear end fishtails around. I thought for certain that I'd end up in that telephone pole, but I managed to avoid that and pulled some NASCAR-style defensive driving to straighten myself out and correct myself from the skid. Of course, now I was rolling backwards down Highway 98 at six-thirty in the evening. People look at me in shock and horror. I smile and wave at them, while gunning the gas and pulling a 180 spin across three lanes of traffic, bebopin' along down the road as if nothing ever happened.
In nay case, I went to MLA, finally remembering that it's on Fridays now. They had an encore of the Nana movie, which was awesome as hell. Especially so for someone such as myself, a fellow jokingly referred to as the "King of All Things Yuri" or whatever it was that Jess said a while back. Very noticable Shoujo-Ai subtext, to the point that most of the members of the more laid-back and informal club were cheering at the screen every time the two girls smiled at one another. People after my own heart. *smirks*
After the movie, I bailed out to meet up with Pocky and Nichole, who had scheduled Friday as "bowling night" earlier that week. I bought me a pitcher of beer, and drained the whole damn thing aside from a single glass I talked Pocky into downing. We were all goofing off, trying silly shots and talking smack to one another, egging each other on. It became less about the bowling and more about coming up with stupid names and trying to bowl either a strike or a spare just to see who had entered what. I think I was simply "Mars" for most of the night until the pranksters got into full swing and really started churning out nicknames at a rapid pace.
I had been goofing off for most of the night, but I decided to get serious in what I thought was to be our last game. I bowled a 118, not my personal best but a lot better than what's become my usual score of around 80 or so. T'was much fun, though, and we'll probably end up doing that again sometime.
And tonight is Miso Anime Club's normal meeting night. I'm about to leave for that in a few minutes...Lord only know what'll end up happening there. *chuckles*