Partayed Out

This partying-like-it's-1999 business is getting tiring.

Buddhist Biker, South Street, Bang (where, I realized this evening, with the exception of the tuna sashimi pizza, I have now eaten every single thing on the menu), Rapture, ZoCaLo, Wild Wings, West Main...

- I am known to every bouncer in town, and then some. I have a variety of quips in my back pocket for when they take one look at my face and say it won't be necessary to see my ID.

- I know which places you need to take your own toilet paper to.

- I know how to wedge the Explorer into the very last free parking spot in town, often to the applause of an awed audience of passers by who obviously have never lived in London.

- I know precisely which Darden people will be there, no matter where it is we go or how hard we might try to escape them: NoCatDan, WeirdTallDarren, SouthernTallGuy and the perennial DaveRouse.

- I know where the cops wait on the R250 to pick up late night speeders and DUI on the way home.

***

Tonight was a bit unusual because it turned out that a bunch of Darden acquaintances were in town for a wedding: John Garofalo's, at Farmington. John Carr, Andy Sidford and Breeze Taylor(now dating), and Justin Zandri. And where else did they decide to have their prewedding party but the upstairs bar at Rapture?

JohnG was one of those Darden guys who always dated really attractive women from out of town. He's ended up marrying one too, rather conveniently. Anyhow, any satisfaction I was feeling at being able to fit into my not-so-large 7 jeans right now was completely dashed when we went upstairs to join the party and saw all these tiny women in size 2 pants, gold sandals, immaculate blown out hair and painted-on freckles. It makes one wonder why one bothers.