Saturday, September 1, 2007

birthday roar by the shore ...

hyperbole, my ass. i had the best birthday since the one where i came luging down the birth canal. i'm sitting here, swinging between "i love the '80s" and the food network, waiting for the wendy's dollar menu to alleviate the dull thud in my head, and wearing a stranger's jesus and mary chain t'shirt. this is absolute perfection.
we walked to coney island for lunch. it is a little early to make this bold of a statement, but i believe the chili-onion-cheese-slatered-hotdog may be my mouth's new super potato ole.

to be fair to the super potato ole, in this picture our coney dogs look more like a punishment than lunch. although, this photo accurately conveys how i felt about 12 minutes after snarfing mine.

for dinner we ordered a 16 inch canadian sunset pizza from VIP. by the time the delivery man used the pizza box like it was a set of marachas, we were left with a 10-inch pizza. complaining about the mess seemed futile. what was he going to do, bring us a new pie? there are a lot of places in a 16-inch pizza to hide snot and cat feces.

we got to the red lion around 10:45 p.m., and for the first time in my experience with this bar, there was a line. one time i was standing outside the red lion and a woman teetered outside and emptied everything but her stomach lining all over the sidewalk. she was wearing a denim vest without a shirt underneath. i had to arc out to the street to get back inside so i wouldn't get rail whiskey and nicotene on my shoes. i hope she was compensated for the free advertising.

i learned a valuable birthday lesson this year: instead of going to the pio and hoping it's fun, i went to the fun and hoped the pio would show up. i was still trying to get my first drink when f.scottie sent me this text:

that bar made me fear for my life. happy birthday.

for a second i saw my landlord about three deep at the bar, scrubs behind him preened to pretty perfection. i did not see him again for the rest of the night. he probably left, insulted that no one yelled his name when he walked into the bar. not to mention he likes his beer on the quick, and it took two or three rounds before i figured out that each time a bartender deigned to talk to me, i should order in bulk. [by the end of the night, chuck pointed to a six pack of sam adams in the refrigerator and said: i'll take that. they even gave him the carrying case.]

i received a bad touch from a stranger while standing near the stage. i forgave him the first time, when i assumed he touched my ass on accident. but when he literally stuck his hand up my skirt and grazed lower butt flesh, i understood that this was more than just a crowded-bar coincidence. unfortunately, i couldn't discern one pervy old dirtbag from another, so i didn't know who's eyeball to gouge at with my thumbs. i hope his probation officer is reading this.

on the other hand, this sort of bar anarchy came in handy when bubbles called. i tried to take the call on the deck, but the bouncer wouldn't let me take my beer outside. i ducked into the empty men's bathroom to chat. [here i have to ask, why all the lemons in the urinal, boys?] when i opened the door, chuck was standing outside and said my favorite sentence of the night: what are you doing in the men's bathroom?

this is a random crowd shot that includes a bald spot, cleavage and i believe chuck's fannie. this, jcrew noted while watching the bands and people dance, is everything that i've ever made fun of about the duluth scene. i know, i agreed, it's super fun, isn't it? she would later leave to hit the strip club across the street. as if this was her birthday r something.

this is bubbles and me
the bar closed early. or maybe the stock was finally depleted, save for a spoonful of nyquil and some vanilla extract. whatever. we went to carmody. i asked a guy wearing a jesus and mary chain stoned and dethroned t'shirt if i could buy it off his back. i asked if he'd take a check. i told him that it was my birthday and offered to trade him my sweatshirt.

finally, he took the shirt off, handed it to me and said: happy birthday.

i put it on immediately and haven't taken it off since. other birthday loot included: a used lighter with a picture of a cougar on it; a pack of camel lights and flowers. chuck gave me the pier one cutting board i'd been drooling over, a completely thorough food encyclopedia that he said has more information than the internet and a red ipod nano! weee!

today i walked downtown to get my car. i had, fortuitiously, brought flip flops so i'd not have to make this trip in wedge heels. i'd not-so-fortuitiously neglected to pack something more than the skirt that i wore last night. the one that screamed, touch me inappropriately, inmate 35591! so this is what i looked like.

a good old fashioned walk of shame. an underrated way to welcome 32.


feistyMNgirl said...

hey: we're iPod twins- red nano girls unite.

i have felt the unwanted hands of strangers at the red lion. i figured it was part of the price of being, the second hand smoke..i just had to deal...

Beret said...

Happy Birthday. How the hell do you stay so skinny?

Whiskeymarie said...

If you're going to get fondled by strangers, it might as well be on your birthday.

I always kind of wait to hear that the Red Lion slid off Superior street and into the lake. It seems to perpetually be one creaky floorboard away from collapsing.

I have a friend that got yelled at in front of the whole bar by some crazy Red Lioness once because she had "hover peed" and peed on the seat without wiping it up. I told my friend she was asking for it. The Red Loin may be dirty, I said, but you still can't just pee on the seat and walk away.

Miss Kate said...

My old office was on the second floor of Greysolon Plaza, and for enterainment on Fridsay mornings, I used to turn around and stare out the window at the people outside the Red Lion. At 9AM. I could never figure out what the hell was going on.

What I would really like to know: What is on the 2nd floor of the Red Lion, behind the plywood windows?