Backtracking Updates from afar: Under the skin

Monday, March 13th, 2006
11:59 am
Under the skin
Friday nights are always a little strange...there is lots of energy in the air with the end of the week appon you. People getting out of work ready to lay it on thick and squeeze the most out of every last second before they have to drudge off to work again on monday.
Working the bar on friday nights is something I try to avoid at all costs, for the simple fact that Nickies has somehow since I started working there always attracted drunk yuppies on friday nights who don't get out much and drink even less frequently in public. So they stumble in at around 1130 already shit faced and hump the poles in the middle of the room,flash unsuspecting bar patrons,grope each other and spill beer all over. All while donning their finest kakis, polo shirts and banana republic skirt and tee sets.
I've never seen anyone in my bar-tending career inhale a cup of water through their nose before friday night....He didn't even flinch either just continued sniffing the water and asking what kind of vodka it was. After 5 hours of this madness any sane person would be just a tad frightened by the effects of alcohol or need a drink really badly. I of course opt for the latter of these two options as I shove the last of the yuppies out of the bar and lock up. Thankful that the 50 year old on ecstasy is no longer my responsibility and her daughter found her bra in a puddle of beer on the floor and is now attempting to put it back on against her moms advice.
Rolling up to my house thoughts of drunken yuppies fresh in my mind the phone begins its ritual ringing. choose to make my way to one of the after hour bars I know of across town. Wishing to wash the horrid events that have transpired at the bar from my mind with strong drink and wild women. Which at this particular after-hours spot there are never a shortage or either one. After secret passwords are exchanged Im welcomed into the honeycomb hideout by large clouds of cigarette smoke and the smell of designer impostor colognes. The entry hallway is packed as usual. Punk-rock hipsters, gold fronts, spike heels and trucker hats are a plenty as I make my way to the bar. The yuppie memories and the tight spot in my neck fade as I obtain my first drink and smile across the room to a cluster of familiar faces. We chatter about the events of the evening and I wave and nod at ones and twos of incoming peeps ready to drink after gigging and bar-tending. Its so comforting to know your not alone in your efforts to get wasted at 2am. Djs bartenders,groupies and night lurking arty types populate the party and its an atmosphere not duplicated anywhere else I've seen. I circulate as the crowd thins a bit into the other room where flashbulbs from a camera exclaim the photo-shoot going on in the corner and people hang out on couches and smoke and smoke and smoke. Indie bands blare from the stereo system in the room, little crowds gather and glances shoot around the room from group to group like live bottle rockets on the 4th.
I spend the majority of my time at this party talking to my photographer friend about the contents of his camera, informing the female populous that Im having a fashion show at the end of the month while sneaking glances at their cleavage and playing the pretentious scarf game with people. These activities keep me entertained until around 4 when for some reason people wearing scarfs were no longer in high quantity and it sounded like a good idea to drink absinthe. Now I've drank my fair share of absinthe in my day and never had a problem......maybe it was all the scarves and trucker hats that had some kind of adverse effect on my alcohol digestive process. Who knows but I do know that it tasted damn good going down and not to great coming back up the next day as I was violently ill for 6 hours.
After a glass of absinthe and my promotion done for the evening I tumble back into the early morning reality that is san francisco. Squish into a cab with several other night/early morning dwelling arty types and make way to the palace. Pretentious hangman was played water was drank and smiles were tossed about the room for a bit and then the inevitable happened. Morning crept up on us all and soon chased the last party people out my door and into saturday. Tussled and tossed I fall into bed and into a couple of hours of calm drunken sleep before the absinthes revenge begins.

Absinthes revenge wakes me the next morning... and these are the first words I hear chiming from outside the bathroom door "Charlie are you puking while wearing your pearls?"

Lemme tell you puking in pearls, silk, and platforms is a site to see! Goddamn yuppies and hipsters will be the death of me.... Ill be one happy smiling idiot corpse for sure though! Make sure my scarf is wrapped snugly under my chin at the funeral people!
(Thank you for another wonderful evening of drunk photos, weirdo people and titty jokes S.F..... once again renewing my inspiration for living.)