Phishing For Trouble

A: So anyone who knows me knows I can’t stand overly-anything people. And what I mean by that is someone whose sole purpose in life is being something - anything - and foisting that something on everyone around him/herself, and in the process alienating/looking down on anyone who doesn’t share their exact frame of mind. This could be The Super Jew, The Mega Gay, Overly Black Man/Woman, Johnny Rabid Sports Fan, The Women’s Studies Zealot… I mean ANYTHING.

It’s ok to be really into something. But when it defines you as a person, you need to really re-examine your priorities and decide if that’s all you want to be. Because if it is, you may have your ass handed to you if we cross paths at the wrong time.

So Lioux and I are STARVING after the sound check, so we walk right next door to a little café-type place with sandwiches and stuff. I’m looking around and people are, well, a little off. And then I’m looking at my surroundings, seeing things… little hints… as to exactly where I was standing, but my feverishly hungry mind couldn’t add it all up.

Then I look at the menu. Let’s see… chicken… chicken… chicken… wait. There’s nothing with chicken on here. [I am a big chicken fan.] Ok, how about a burger… nope. Cold cuts? Hell no. Hmm… [looks around again].

[Does that girl have hairy armpits?]

[And hairier legs than me?]

[And what’s with the raggy clothing on everyone?]

Crap.

Me: “Uh, Lioux, this is a veggie place.”

Lioux: “Huh?”

Me: “It says vegetarian and vegan fare on the wall over there.”

And it all comes into focus. The annoying music playing, the almost snobbish attitude toward us “normals”, the lazy-ass way things are getting done, the hideousness of the nasty druid girls walking around. Damn it. Why tonight, of all nights, when I’m least equipped to handle this sitch?

I settled on a grilled cheese sandwich, which I’m sure made one of them snicker, thinking, “yeah, that’s about all you can handle, carnivore”, but since I can’t actually read hippie minds [thank GOD for that] I didn’t have enough evidence to actually kill any of them. Truth is, I don’t mind veggie food, and I really like a lot of it. I have friends that are veggies, and we’re cool. But those friends are FRIENDS who happen to be vegetarian. It’s not all they are. We have OTHER things in common.

But these people… ugh. They carry themselves with this air of “getting it”. Like they’re so f-ing enlightened. Give me a break. They all look like malnourished assbags, and frankly, I’m really big into the environment and recycling and doing my part, but when it’s put in context like this, I suddenly wanted to club a baby seal with a slab of frozen beef while stomping on Styrofoam cups and singing a Ted Nugent song about hunting animals. I was sooo ready to leave when the lazy hippie bastards finally had our “meals” ready.

And you know what? A blind, retarded kitten with one paw can make a better grilled cheese sandwich than those freaks. I think they half-assed it because they knew we weren’t one of them. Then again, they probably half-ass everything. Except telling you why meat is bad. Christ.

The Rude Woman

L: One of the clubs we hit on Music Row was a place called The Stage. We had gone in pretty late in the night and already bar hopped a few places prior so we already had a pretty good buzz on already. The place itself was pretty empty with a few stragglers besides ourselves.

The band playing was okay, they were playing all covers. When the singer asked if anone wanted to hear anything, Elle (always one to appreciate original material) called out “Play something you wrote, honey!”

The singer kinda mumbled something and they broke into yet another cover. And then another. The last song of their set.

“Thank you folks, Now I’m going to go and have a few words with the rude woman at the bar.”

[?]

Elle: “What? What do you mean rude?”

Singer(still on stage and speaking through the microphone): “You asked me to play something I KNOW.” (Obviously implying that she was insulting him by saying he couldn’t even play a cover tune).

E: “NOooo. I asked you to play something you WROTE. I wanted to hear some of your original music!”

S: “Oh. Now I’m going to go and apologize to the woman at the bar.”

Elle ended up buying him a drink and we all laughed at the misunderstanding.


A: Yeah, those guys were pretty cool. At this same bar, we noticed a copy of Bartending for Dummies right next to the register. I had to ask, so I politely inquired of the nice girl behind the bar how often that tome came out. She said she’d only used it once. I asked her what kinds of drinks other than beer and whiskey she usually served, and she said she once served a cosmo. Once.

Nashville really isn’t the pinnacle of liquor diversity one might assume it is. Fine with me, I drink whiskey. And they have plenty of that sweet, sweet nectar.