so, the other half of the weekend. yeah...

I got so tired of writing the longest trail run recap ever that I didn't even write about the rest of the weekend. good grief.

Saturday night Sunshine, Momo, and AP (a high school cross country friend of mine and Mo's) planned to go out. Sunshine had to bail due to some new medication + alcohol induced floor spinning, so the three of us headed over to the main street area to complete what Sunshine and I call the trifecta. Pretentious martini bar first (where 1-2 drinks leaves you buzzed and ready for non-sleazy men), then walk to the irish pub, then, if it's a really good night, go over to the Post (the local dancing/meat market... literally, men just line the walls staring at women. I have to be fairly intoxicated to even step foot in there).

So we hit the martini bar. yeah. lots of mid 30's men, a few couples that were obviously on first dates, and an abundance of women who have had more plastic surgery than you can shake a stick at. but they make the best dirty martini i've ever had, so we put up with it. just as I comment that, "at least there aren't any really old, creepy men leering at us," the man across the bar is pointed out to me, and he is indeed creepy, old, and leering at us. we finish our martinis and leave.

ON TO THE IRISH PUB! which is... empty? hmph. we grab a table and order a round anyways. we quickly become bored, so we order shots of tequila. we forget to have them chilled. AP emerges from the bathroom with an unopened condom that she found on the floor. it has staples through it, and is of the brand, "Class Act." we all agree that this is the best brand name for a condom that we've ever heard of, especially since we found it on the floor in a pub, with staples through it, no less. we yawn multiple times, check our watches, and realize it's just shy of midnight. oh, how sad.then Justin Timberlake's "Rock Your Body" comes on. this, I think, is what urged AP to suggest that she would be up for heading to the Post, when MoMo and I were about to call it a night. So, next door to the Post we head.

Predictably, the Post is packed with scantily clad women on the dance floor and dozens of men surrounding the dance floor, staring at said women. We order a round and then go dance. the floor is packed, forcing us newcomers to the outer edges where most of the vulture-like men are standing. Fortune smiles on us, and the DJ starts playing AC/DC's You Shook Me All Night Long, which suddently makes hoards of people stream off the dance floor. we don't get it either, but we move further toward the center of the floor where we find men who are actually fun to dance with, instead of just being creepy. we dance with them for the rest of the evening. they are hilarious and for the first time ever we had a great time at the Post. it was amazing. granted, the guy I was dancing with at some point decided to put a vice grip on me (he was literally bear hugging me on the dance floor, it was really not comfortable at all), but I let it slide because I had said something earlier to him that made him feel bad.

After waiting forever for a cab, we finally arrived home to leftover Pizza Marvelous, and woke up and had greasy omelettes and hash browns from the local diner for breakfast. now that's life. Sunshine and I spent the rest of the afternoon napping by the pool, where there was a surprising lack of children (much to our relief) and then I dragged her out to do a 5 mile recovery trail run with me. It was either run or get sucked in to watching the last 30 minutes of Hope Floats, so I felt like I had accomplished something when I pulled her away from the TV.

ahhh... lazy weekends. life is good.