Thursday, January 28, 2010

Stories on 6th Street

6th Street is not for the faint of heart or the early to bed folk, like me.  But for memorable occasions and pub crawling it’s definitely the place to be.

When our friends Ant Dawg and B-Ran called on their way thru town a few weeks ago and asked if we had plans for Friday, I had to stifle my laughter.  Friday night plans?  Ha!

JS and I postponed our ritualistic Friday night pajama party in front of the TV, much to the beloved Chihuahuan’s disappointment, and hit the town.

My idea of dinner and drinks quickly veered out of control and ended in 7 hours of hard partying.  (Thanks to the Sweet Baby Jesus there was only one Red Bull involved.)

We braved the rain and the cold and met up with Ant and B’s friends…  Which were quickly dubbed “Ross” and “The Baby” because I was incapable of remembering their real names.

The Baby said she was 24 but since I never validated her I.D. I’m certain she was not a day over 16.  The Baby, who’s stated profession was ‘Kindergarten teacher’, shocked my socks off with her incredible pole dancing skills.  (Lots of roof top tent poles out there)  I couldn’t help but think, damn…  Is this the future of education?  And, Wow!  If nothing else, those chil’ren are going to have mad dancing skills.

Some of the night’s highlights included:

My super sick driving skills that landed us mid intersection on red.

The bartender asking people to be gentle with the inflatable Bevo, after he sustained some pelvic thrusting.

JS River Dancing alone, center stage, with an umbrella…

Ant Dawg asking the police for “a pump,” even though they were not riding bikes.

B-Ran and The Baby crashing into the side of a building, landing them in a very cold puddle, only to sustain one bump-it injury. (And yes, the bump-it really works.)

A few hours later B-Ran asking, “Why are my pants wet?”

Anthony leading 200 people in song as we closed the bar,  “Pants on the ground, pants on the ground. Lookin’ like a FOOL with yo pants on the ground!”

The largest umbrella known to man somehow survived 7 hours of pub crawling.

Ending the night with 4000 calories at Taco Cabana.  Rest in peace, bowl of queso.  Rest in peace

Thanks guys!  We had a blast!

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