Tuesday, March 13, 2007

Stop reading this blog. Or I am only going to resort to reviewing all the boring clubs and bars I go to in Tempe for you.


Anytime I get a spike in readership I slow down in my posting. I don't like having to live up to all your expectations. I've said it before. But I feel the need to keep saying it over and over again.

I know you think I am a hypocrite. Because all I ever do is tell you I want to get famous and rich. And anytime I get close I self sabotage. But I could stay up late with you every night and get drunk and talk to you about the philosophical implications of approach/avoidance disorder till your sick and puke your guts out. But I am pretty sure that'll just be the tequila talking.

Last night I went out on the town again. Which is funny coincidence, because lately I've been watching a lot of the movie The Last Days of Disco.

In the movie one of the characters is given a fancy overcoat to throw over his hideous middle aged clothing in order to get past the bouncer. My friends and I had a similar experience at Club Zuma. We are way to old to be trying to get into this bar.

My friend got really pissed at the doorman for letting in a bunch of VIP's and hot chicks before letting in a couple of 30 year old scrubs. I tried telling my friend that it was OK. That this sort of thing always happened. And if was any kind of consolation, The Last Days of Disco pretty much ruined Whit Stillman's career as a director.

But my friend was basically inconsolable. He just kept staring at the doorman with these crazy psychotic eyes. The kinda eyes you all assume I have. But you're wrong. In actuality I am really quite placid and laid back.

We eventually got in to the bar though. One of my friends enjoys "grabbin ass" and I am pretty sure he did his fair share of ass grabbin. Which is ironic. Because one girl who walked up to us near closing time thanked us for "giving her support" in dealing with a belligerent ass grabbing drunk.

Funny thing is while she thought I was telling him that he didn't need to be harassing her, I was really telling him to instigate some trouble with her. I guess the point is here that you can't even trust the dopey middle aged guys at a bar who look like they are trying to prevent the perverts from touching you.

Cheers.

Romius T.

4 comments:

Stephanie said...

Duly noted. Thank you for today's public service announcement.

Romius T. said...

If I can't help you gals out with something, then what good am I?

Unknown said...

How about when my summer starts, I come down to Tempe and we get shit faced and start some fires together? That would be a blast. But then we'd lose this mysterious tension b/n us that only discussing personal matters w/ faceless cyber entities can lend to a (mock) relationship.

Romius T. said...

it worries me. I know in print I can decieve you, but in person I would fail you.

I would love a visit, but I am sure the fire we start would be the end of the fire between us.

Fantasy as a power in your imagination has built an image of me up to Olypian heights. I don't the real me could scale those heights with you.

Alas I am doomed. But some torchlight bends downwards to me. And I look up to you, like the morning star. Lit for only me, but yet so far.

All my love
Romius T,