Happy St. Patrick's Day! (Ken's Visit part II)
Before I get too much into Ken's visit again, I feel I HAVE to link a story from MSNBC. They were, apparently, trying to find a better beer than Guinness for St. Patty's Day (or they were trying to find a Guinness substitute, or something). Basically the guy said that Guinness is as good as it gets for Irish-ness on March 17th. The real reason I linked to this story is that it shows a picture of the Chicago River as it was on Saturday... when I didn't get a picture. It is, honestly, a super-bright green... which almost blinds you when you first see it. It's amazing. At least click on the link and check out the picture.
Sidenote: I think if someone says "Eat my nutsack" it's okay to call their bluff. They are, basically, asking for it.
Also, before I get too much into Ken's visit again, I feel that I have to say something else about Saint Patrick's Day. I am annually quite upset by people who are NOT Irish in any way, shape, or form who say "Everyone's Irish on St. Patty's Day!" This is not true literally or figuratively... this is your excuse to get drunk and stay drunk for an entire day. Where were you when my ancestors built the roads, buildings, and subway tunnels of New York? Where were you when they were treated as less than dirt, not quite slaves but not quite citizens either? Where were you when I had to listen to my grandfather's Irish stories (Irish storytellers are long-winded [read: stories that are boring and very LONG])? You were none of those places... happy to say on that day that you were British or German or Swedish. So pardon me if I'm a little upset if you're going to claim to be Irish just so you can get drunk. And that's another thing... what other heritage has a holiday that has been bastardized to the point of being a day of drunkenness? You could claim Mardi Gras is no longer about being the day before Lent, and I would agree. Other than that, you'd be hard pressed to find a heritage that has the entire nation getting drunk and blaming you. *sigh* Silver lining... okay. Um... well, not many other ethnicities have holidays that are "just for them." In that respect, St. Patrick's Day is special... and I should stop focusing on the negative, and go out to Hooters with Adam and his roommates to eat wings and stare at attractive women in disgustingly small uniforms (when I say disgusting, I refer to the "bottoms" which would be hotter if they were volleyball shorts. I've already mentioned this... but I'm still right. The Hooters' "pants" show FAR TOO MUCH in an area that's difficult to keep looking good if you have a large chest [which is a pre-req for working there]). Besides, it seems like everyone wants to be Irish on St. Patrick's Day... so people are jealous of me and my hideous sideburns, right? Even though Patrick was a Brit. Makes no sense. Bastardized another holiday. Okay, time to move on.
Hey! Do you have any Irish in you? *pause* Do you want some more?
Back to Ken's Visit...
Thursday: We slept in late pretty late. It was past noon, if I remember correctly. And, when we woke up, it was just to play more Battlefront. Thursday flew by, it seems, and I can't even remember us getting food... we may have just eaten loot I had around the apartment.
Then, before I knew it, I had my first Conservatory level 1A class with Tim O'Malley. Let me say this: BEST.CLASS.EVER. Whereas Gellman looked at me as if I was an idiot, O'Malley used my improv TWICE in the night to demonstrate what I had done right. He also asked my opinion of something during a game, and agreed with me. And Gellman would do roll call and not really look up to notice the person who was responding; O'Malley, on the other hand, would stop in between people and say "Hi. I'm Tim. Nice to meet you John." I just felt really comfortable right away... and I think I did some pretty good stuff in class this week, too. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that Gellman wanted perfection--so I was constantly on guard, worried I'd do it "wrong"; but O'Malley said it's okay to "fuck up" and has such a laid back attitude that I feel comfortable trying new, different, and exciting things in class. I was in such a good mood after class... this semester is going to rock! (I hope)
After class, I came back to my apartment to find that Ken had showered and wanted to go out. "Okay", I thought, "why not?" We then headed to the Old Town Pub for a few pints. I'm not sure how many we had... maybe three each of Bass. Just enough to realize that the waitress wasn't attractive before but she was 'now' and that means it's time to go. Bass, by the way, tastes like beer... it does not mess around. Almost every light beer I've ever had tastes like someone pissed in some water and handed it to me. I think that's why beer is served cold... if it was room temperature, everyone would know that light beer is actually just piss.
Regardless, after three Bass, we headed back to my apartment to play more Battlefront. I'll call this portion of the trip 'Drunken' Battlefront, because we had some Jaeger and red bulls as well. And, for some reason, we were a lot better at the game when we were 'drunk'. Before we were getting 20 frags each... but, after alcohol, we were getting around 40 each. Our 'headshot' count went up too... it was like we had to concentrate so much just to make sure we didn't mess up that we were mowing people down. As we sobered up, our playing worsened... until we lost a couple matches to the computer and figured we should call it a night.
Friday: Afternoon (which was morning for us) we headed to the world famous Billy Goat Tavern on Lower Michigan Ave. I love that place because the burgers are great... but you have to come humble. Here's how my conversation went with the guy cooking the burgers: "Triple or Double?" he said, "Double." I replied, "Triple." he said back, "Triple." I decided. Yeah... you really can't choose what size you want there. It's seriously better to just go with the flow. Ken recalled that the same thing happened to him the last time we went... and then I remembered that I made him go first, saw what happened and that he looked like an ass, and made sure that I ordered a triple right away. That was last time... this time I looked like the ass. But it doesn't matter, the cook isn't going to remember us. And the burgers WERE very good. Quite good, indeed.
Before I knew it, it was time for my six o'clock call for Sweet Pumpkin Pie. *Deep sigh* Ahh... Opening night of the show. What could be more exciting? Oh, I don't know, perhaps if the theatre which claims to be capacity at 65 (it's hidden above a door, but it's there) had to pack in over 100 people. YES, my 7:30 PM Writing Five show, on opening night was PACKED! Absolutely PACKED! It was a pretty good opening night show, too. I broke during one of the scenes... so I should now be angry enough at myself to never break during this run again. I was so mad at myself for breaking. I haven't done it on stage here in Chicago (at least not during a sketch show... I'm still kind of crap during improv)(I'm not giving myself credit... I've maybe broken three times tops in all the improv shows I've done here... I'm just pissed at myself because it's so amateur).
After the show, I came out to find Ken and see what he thought. He seemed to have had a pretty good time. I then proceeded to introduce and forget to introduce him to almost everyone I knew there. I would introduce him to a few people... start talking to someone else, and forget that I hadn't introduced him to the new person yet. It happened more than I'd care to mention. After repeatedly making myself feel like a bad person and friend, we headed up to Bar Louie. This was Ken's first taste of my interaction with the people I'm working with... and I think he was interested to see how "funny people" interact with each other. Or maybe I was interested to see what he thought of what he was seeing. Or something like that. It was also an opportunity for Ken to see Kim and I interact. Yes, Kim. I think that Ken's reaction to the situation, afterwards, was something along the lines of "What the hell is she doing?" When she was "sober," she talked with me and flirted with me just like she did with everyone else. She's a flirt... but so am I. No big deal, right? But, after a few drinks, she was not really flirting with anyone else... and there was a lot of touching of the John going on. Ken doesn't get it either... and I certainly don't get it. I can't get the time of day from Sober!Kim, but Drunk!Kim thinks I'm hot to the max... and doesn't even try flirting with anyone else. I'm now convinced that she's not interested because I can't get her to say she's interested in doing anything with me while she's sober, while Ken thinks I should go for it because she IS in fact interested. Men ARE dumb... but y'all women are confusing.