oh boy, a lot has happened in a week. i covered for a friend so i worked three shifts. there's a lot to talk about, so hop on that hog in the rear view mirror and ride that sweet wave of man.
one of the nights this club had no music. how terrible! not only do i have to stay in the bathroom, but now i can't even jam out to anything while i wait around. i'm freaking out, i start pacing jumping up and down, running in circles, it's always very awkward when i'm mid some particular mindnumb cure all move and someone walks in. after i tire myself out, my boredom evolves into singing songs to myself. also pretty awkward as people walk in...
"hey, how's it going, dude?" I ask.
"alright, man," he says with little conviction.
"yeah, dude, what's up with no music? how the hell do they expect to get people here? i'm going crazy," I complain.
"yeah i hear that," he says.
"i was pacing and shit, but now i've started singing to myself. it's kind of awkward when the door opens and i'm like 'doo da doo...no i wasn't singing mariah carey while emulating her poses. *cough*"
"haha, yeah but that one mariah carey song is the shit, man."
"hell yeah, she's got some good stuff. what's the one you're thinking of?"
"fuck, i dunno. it was a single...i can't place the melody or remember the words, though."
"damn, man i was thinking of one when i said that, but now i've lost it."
"dude, we gotta figure out what this song is, it's gonna wrack our brains!"
"haha, yeah, was the melody like...*proceed to try to bust out something between honey and fantasy.
"nah, man, we're so close though."
"alright, alright, alright," i say frantically, "we've got this. was the melody 'doo do do dum doo doo doo da doo da dum?"
"that's the one! fuck yeah!
"what's the song called?"
"aw c'mon man, don't push it. we both got the melody!" we proceed to sing it together.
"and then! it's like 'yoouuu and i will always beeee...."
he blows up the lead vocal track "youuu andd iii youuu andd iiii"
"oh don't you know you can't escape me..." i look for him lost on the words.
"...cause you will ,always be my baby!"
"YEAAH, that's it! and we'll linger onnnnn.... fuck yeah dude! you're the man, that was the shit!
"fuck yeah that's the shit," he says, "don't let people hate on mariah, or you for liking her, she's awesome."
a while later, a man walks up and small, intricate, 'chemical-like' tattoo peaks out under his sleeve on his right wrist.
"hey man, that's a pretty nifty tattoo," i say, "what is it?"
"oh, it's a dopamine molecule."
"oh, cool, what does that do?"
"well," he begins, "dopamine controls all your motor functions and allows you to make smooth movements. my grandma had parkinson's disease, so this is kind of a tattoo for her."
"that's cool," i say.
"dopamine also controls a lot of your emotions, and personality and stuff, so it's pretty cool."
"definately," i say.
"your dopamine receptors are also effected," he chuckles, "if you do any psychotropic drugs like mushrooms or LSD."
"ooohh haha, so it's a grandma and tripping tattoo, very nice. or is it a tripping grandma tattoo ;)?"
"haha," he chuckles, "it's versatile."
after he leaves another patron walks up to me with a huge grin on his face.
"what the fuck, man? where else are you gonna learn all this random shit about someone? now you know his grandma had parkinsons, that he knows a little about brain chemistry, and that he's done or does do crazy drugs. in like 2 minutes, you know all this crazy shit about this random person you don't even know!"
"yeah, man, this job is nuts. people talk about some crazy shit in here," i say.
"alright, dude, the craziest thing you've seen, GO!"
"shit, dude, thassa tough cookie. hrrm...i wore a skirt in here last week, but that wasn't as crazy as i thought it would be...uhhh...this guy mooned me once...alright alright i got it. one time these two guys were pissin and one look right over the partition just starin at his boy's junk!"
"he what?"
"oh yeah dude, just vibin on it for like 15 seconds, not even tryin to hide where he's spyin, and then he just goes into this kinda mopey tone...
'damn dude, next to yours my dick is tiny!'
"no way...." he says in disbelief
"fucking, way, dude, and i swear they forgot i was even there. so i'm just smoking trying to keep quiet as his friend just kind of comforts him..."
'nah, dude, don't worry about it, you get mad girls, you're alright.'
"hahahaha whoa," he says.
"haha yeah and he's not trying to be patronizing but i mean what can he do? this dude just like set himself up there's really nothing you can do. you could lie, but assuming the other dude has a super cock or whatever i mean he ain't gonna believe that. so eventually, man i just crack up, and they turn around, they're in shocked!"
'oh, shit this bathroom guy thinks we're gay!'
"...and shit man, they needed me to know they were straight, and i don't give a shit, man"
"yeah," he says, "i could give two fucks about anyone's shit."
"yeah man, i say, "and they're all handed me money 'we're straight we're straight' and i'm tryin to tell em that it doesn't matter to me, and that i see crazy shit like this all the time and it's all gravy, but they won't leave till they tip me 5 bucks!"
"hahaa, that's pretty wild man," he says.
"nothin out of the ordinary, though," i say as he walks out, "be easy man."
"you too!" he shouts as the door closes.
there are good times, though, when someone makes a solid effort to squash homophobia, or at least let me know they don't support it.
"yo, pimpin, what's good?" one says.
"i'm chillin, man, can i get you anything?"
"yeah yeah yeah, we both need to get a spray."
"alright, you got it."i recommend this (Le Male by jean paul gaultier). a lot of people knock it cause it's a dudes body and they think that's gay or some shit, but they're idiots. this shit smells so nice. it's the best one we've got."
"hell yeah, that's dank, dude" he says. "and that shit is just plain ignorance!"
"you're telling me," i say.
"we 'preciate it, boss, you have a good one."
"thanks, ya'll, you have a good one as well."
a 6ft plus dude walks out of the stall and up to the sink. he looks at the colognes skeptically.
"pfft, nah, i got my own scent!" He proclaims. He then takes his hand and waves over his chest and lower torso.
"i've been brewin it all day, baby" he says.
"hey man, some people dig that au naturale! ;)"
one of my regular bathrooms has two urinals of different height. one is at about 'average' crotch spot for guys and the other is much lower. it's the 'kiddie' sized urinal as it has been dubbed by a lot of patrons.
as both are being used, the guy at the low one complains, "man what the hell is this shit. i feel like i'm 'bout to piss on my shoes or somethin'"
"at least you don't get all that back splash," his friend responds.
"it's just weird, if i'm peeing this low it's usually into a girls mouth!"
i laugh.
"dude, gross, thanks for the imagery," his friend complains.
"nah, it ain't gross, if she's into it you definately gotta oblige, right?" he asks, turning to me.
"definately, dude, if i'm with someone and they want to do weird shit, whatever man, i'll do that shit. if she's into getting peed on, or peein on i don't give a fuck. you gotta step up and get down on some weird shit sometimes," i say. "i looove raisinets, i'll eat em out of an ass crack," whatever!
"you see? this man knows whassup!"
"yeah, man," i say, "when it comes down to it, everybody is into weird shit i imagine. you just gotta give it up."
"eh, i think i draw the line at peein in some girl's mouth," his friend says, "i don't think i could do it."
"well," he says, "that's why i'm getting all of em at the club, and you're on lock by some chick who's out of town."
"fuck you, bro, man dating sucks."
"hey," i say, "when you got it you hate it but when you don't, you want it" *shrug*
"ain't that the truth, be easy man," one of them says as they leave.
"have a good night, ya'll."
following their exit, this guy comes out of the full stall, kicking the door open and pushing his chest out. *crasssssshhhhhhh*
"nah, dude, if a girl asks me to pee in her mouth, i say alright i'm cummin in your ass."
"hey man, do your thing," i say cracking up.
the man on lock is a classic dynamic. no man will complain more about not getting any at the club than the man who's there with his girlfriend.
"man," he says, "this girl keeps dancing on me, and then lookin at my girlfriend and my girl is just giving me the evil eye! fuck dude!"
"shit, man, being locked down at the club is rough," i say, "i bet shedances with other guys."
"if she does, i'll be pissed!" He exclaims.
"alright, so it ain't like that, but what about this other girl?" I ask.
"damn man, she was friends with me before i started dating my girlfriend. we've always been flirty, but nothing crazy, and now whenever i go out with my girl she's all over me! it's fucked!"
"damn, man, and your girl don't dance with you?"
"not when she's all pissed off at this other chick!"
"so this girl who your friends with is giving you love, and your girlfriend ain't. fuck man, maybe talk to her about loosenin up, try and get em both or do an open relationship?"
"nah, she won't go for that."
"you gotta work something out. if your friend who you flirt with is grinding on you, and your girl ain't blowin you up, maybe it will work itself out."
"nah, i dunno, i don't WANT the other girl, i want my girlfriend."
"true, true, well it's gotta be rough getting danced on when you can't dance back. all that hot loving in your dead in the water."
"yeah," he says, handing me a dollar.
"thanks, man" i say, "you wanna cu--*cough* err gum for that?"
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