I walk into Rhino bar with a friend and it's early. The place looks busted and empty, but would soon fill. The first song I was greeted to was Michael Jackson's "Billy Jean". Nice. It's the first time in 2008 that I'm going out in d.c.
I go up to the bar and this otherwise ok looking girl with quite obviously huge, fake rack gets me a drink. I stand around as my friend talks to some girl she knows, and I go into my usual routine of staring at the wall and wondering how in the hell people have conversations in such scenarios. The place begins to fill, and I know it may be an ok evening. Got a call from Allen earlier, and it's been months since the two of us stood in the same room drinking booze not really talking. I finish my drink and head to the bar for a beer.
I stand up at the bar for literally 10 minutes and am passed over multiple times until this bartender who looks like I'm wasting his time asks me what he can get me. I ask him sarcastically, Can I get a drink? I finally get the drinks and my chick friend tells me I need to show more cleavage, but I'm thinking that doing so would probably only magnify my problems. Right as I get the drinks Allen comes upstairs, booze in hand. A former Pheasant Run resident who knows us only as "trakboyz" sees us and gets this shocked look that, yes, indeed, we as human beings do exist outside of college shenanigans and running. In the multiple years since leaving Harrisonburg, this girl has every time upon seeing me told me that I'm a trakboy. Whatever.
So time passes, and everyone needs a drink, so I go to the bar, and theres a guy whose been standing there for like 5 minutes being ignored by the bartender. He mentions that the service sucks, and I say "well dude, see we don't make $100,000 annually, hell, neither one of us even has a watch on, at least I have a livestrong bracelet". Turns out I'm served before him.
Now the chicks we were talking to are mingling with what appear to be a few of the tons of guys in the place decked out in expensive clothes and just out of the gym. Disinterest comes and I head to the bar to pay out, and now the place is packed. This cute girl pulls up next to me, and I say to her, hey, I guarantee you're going to get you're drink, before I get my tab. She takes the bet. Oddly, 2 minutes later, the stacked serving chick looks at me, walks over, and helps me first.
Later, as Allen and I stand, bored, a girl comes up and starts talking to him. Out of nowhere one comes up and starts talking to me. Turns out she digs existentialism. Given that I had a 4 year funk of that known as college, I can relate. We talk, the night progresses. So it goes. The place closes down and I need a fuckin' ride back to my car. Allen posts up as the wheel man, and off we go, and into lanes and conversation and conjunction...well...you know...it goes.
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