Betty and Rob and Woofwa

So me and my posse went out this weekend for a little round-up, shoot-out. Okay, not really. It was for boozing and dancing. But we were still a dangerous bunch. Okay, also not true. We're all pretty benign. Okay, very benign. Like little kittens. In fact, we didn't even go out... God, can't I James Frey a little bit?

Anyhow, we really did go out and it was a night of many weird-Os. First, at Heaven and Hell, there was the line-dancing, air-swimming girl who Antoine, Kelly and I decided is named Betty, works as a nanny, is from rural Montana (or Vermont... we were undecided) and drives a 90s model black Toyota Corolla that is rusting out. She rocked her body and boggled our minds. Who knew you could non-ironically line-dance to hip-hop?

After we left Heaven and Hell, we discovered our friend Corey had tried to get in but had been turned away because he was wearing a black hoodie and Heaven and Hell has a strict "no sweatshirt" policy... Don't they realize that sweatshirts are the indie boy uniform? It's not Corey's fault... it's just what he owns. It's in a rule book or something. So, Heaven and Hell was lame, but had strong gin and tonics. And Betty. Oh, Betty... I miss you already.

We finally ended up at the Blue Room, after Antoine and my molecules were squished together trying to get a drink at Angry Inch. We decided we wanted to remain separate entities, so we left. Blue Room didn't really have the music we were looking for, though, but it turned out to be fun. It had sort of a mix of hip-hop and house, which I don't tend to like, but it had a nice atmosphere. And a bar.

The most memorable part of the night actually happened while I was waiting for the restroom, which was near the bar. While waiting, I had an awful encounter with a man I have since named, Weird-O From West Africa(W-OFWA). Woofwa, if you will...

Woofwa: Hi
Me: Hi
Woofwa: You have to go to the bathroom?
Me: Yep.
Woofwa: Do you have to go bad? I'll help you.
Me (shifting uncomfortably): Um, I'm fine.
Woofwa (leaning forward and cupping his hands): If you have to go, I'll let you pee in my hands.
Me: Um... no thanks.
Woofwa: I'm just kidding, of course. Hahaha...
Me (turning to the girl next to me): Please pretend to be my friend. That man just asked me to pee in his hands...
Girl: Oh dear...
Me: Yeah, I know.

I'm not kidding. This happened. I'm still disturbed. It would have been less weird (but still inappropriate) for him to grab my boob or butt or something. But peeing in his hands? What?! Who says that? Woofwa, that's who.

On a brighter note, Betty actually ended up at the Blue Room too, although she had stopped air swimming. We had to find a new person to ponder and find did we ever. Next to us on the dancefloor was a short, chubby man with a red beard and glasses, bobbing his head and sort of wiggling his elbows. Antoine, Kelly and I decided that his name was Rob and that he watches anime. We were also convinced that he collects comic books and stores them in protective Mylar. Spurred on by gin and my belief in my deductive powers, I went up to Rob. I pretended to hit on him with the "what's your name, don't I know you?" line. His name is actually Rich... and he felt a strong need to tell me that we didn't know each other because he's from Boston.

Which I believe proves that he, in fact, keeps his comic books in Mylar.