Boys Don't Cry

Who wants to know why Michelle didn't post for a week?

Well, I don't give a rat's ass - I'm telling you anyway.

Aside from college and work, which consume my lazily spent time, I went out of town this past weekend (Weekends are when I do the most blogging). I was coerced into making the two and a half hour drive to Tallahassee under the pretense that I would be having fun. Not that I didn't... but oh was it so much more than that.

We floated in tubes down a river, drank lots of beer, went to a few parties, blah blah blah - none of this matters. What matters is the events which occurred during the second night of my stay in good ol' Seminole city (If it's ever been called that, I don't know... but we're going to go with yes).

There is a bar called 'Yianni's' on a main strip... This bar has 80s nights, I assume, every Saturday. Needless to say, it was 80s night when we went. Very necessary to note, however, is the attire of which my comrades decided to flaunt. The group's own personal theme (because apparently the bar doesn't take it far enough) was popular tennis players from the 1980s. Here to give you an idea:



Imagine that... combined with this:



Or this...



With this:



You get the idea. Mullet wigs, head and wrist bands, and teensy tiny, tight atheltic shorts. So anyway... You'd think that it'd be impossible to become angry enough, in an outfit such as this, to want to fight...? Apparently not.

So immediately after one of my friends (names will not be mentioned in order to secure the dignity of those involved.. and oh - will it ever need securing), we'll call him Friend #1, inappropriately grabs an ex fuck buddy's ass... She slaps him in his face. He proceeds to scream "Fuck off!!" into her face. This I saw... and this I laughed at... because c'mon... It's funny when someone screams curse words into the face of a hooker.

So yada yada yada, and suddenly three guys walk up to Friend #1 and Friend #2... Who are talking shit behind these three amigos's backs - in a very manly manner, of course... So here come the Three Amigos and a bit of a spit off/ shoving match begins... A drink gets thrown, Friend#1 gets tackled by bouncers... and we all get kicked out. Thank youuuuu, gay tennis players who like to fight... Thanks for blasting from the past in order to ruin my night.

In the parking lot, wigless and testosterone leaking from their jockstraps, the two manly mansters in hotpants and knee-highs pace back and forth. A third friend, who is buddy, buddy with the bar's owners, managers, bouncers, and bartenders, comes running from the bar itself, screaming and ranting into Friends #1 and 2's faces. He says according to John and Jane Doe it was #1 and 2 that started the fight... and they're never allowed on the strip again. Friend #2, who, I hope for his sake, is plastered at this point, begins to frantically and emotionally shout in Friend #3's face... "Why don't you believe me? That hurts, man! We're supposed to be boys! Why don't you just believe me!?!"

And then.... oh then... he weeps. Loudly and unabashedly... Torn and tormented weeping... For a good 10 minutes.

And then... Myself and the female friend next to me... Well, we just laugh. Laugh and laugh. Ha. Ha ha. Understandably... as Friend #1 jumps around the parking lot, flinging himself from car bumper to car bumper, leaping off the ground, rolling on the ground, making sound effects appropriately matched to those of Daffy Duck's from Looney Tunes. I don't know if I was more frightened, shocked, or amused. If you've ever seen a grown, 200 pound-ish Marine roll on the ground making 'WOOHOO WOOHOO WOOHOO' noises... You may understand my reaction.



...and as the emotional, tennis twosome ran off into the night together through the park en route to the most ghetto neighborhood in Tallahassee (No shit - I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to), in my bout of laughter I suddenly had an epiphany... "Oh my God", I said, turning to another friend who just happened to be within earshot, "I just remembered..

I. HAVE. A. BLOGSITE."

Thank Alcohol for blog material.