1$ PBR And Beer Truck Thursday. Who Knew?
It always starts off the same way. Either Jay or Dave yells "Hey Chocolate Face lets go out for a few drinks". So Jay, Dave, and I pile into his sweet ass KIA rental car and head out to "Beer Trucks". If you didn't know Thursday nights here in West Palm Beach are "Beer Truck" nights. Which basically means they get a big truck filled with beer and park it downtown at the end of the strip. They set up a big stage with shitty bands playing shitty music while the bums and townsfolk alike gather to drink. One of the homeless dudes asked me for a cig and proceeds to tell me his life story per as usual. At the end of his story, which I promptly ignored, he told me about how he had "kids my age" and how "I would love to have him as a dad". Last time I checked I already had a father and he didn't live in a trashcan. He was a nice guy but a bum telling you he could have been your father is like almost winning first place in an ugly wife competition.
For some reason Thursday nights always sneak up on you. I guess it's because the "Beer Trucks" end at 9 o'clock and I usually figure I will go home after they close. Well guess what? By the time 9 o'clock rolls around you're just drunk enough to make the first poor decision of the night. Which usually is deciding to stay out a little longer just to see "what's happenin". This night was no different. After the beer trucks we went to the local Irish pub where I filled up on some whiskey and watched the local Christian College have some weird end of season Kickball League party. Also known as the league for people who suck at all other sports. Next we went to the local shitty lounge type club, called "The Lounge" oddly enough, where a mediocre cover band started playing all those hits you didn't care about hearing ever again. We ended up seeing this crazy guy doing all types of flailing on the dance floor and wondered how much he had to drink. Then about a half hour into making fun of him the club promoter informs us he has Parkinson's Disease and the only reason he hadn't kicked him out was because of the Americans with Disabilities act.
So after making fun of cripples we decided to go to the Hipster/Goth club across the street called "Respectables". Also known as the place everyone loves to hate. This was one of those rare nights when people just started coming out of the woodwork. One minute we walk in the place and it's relatively dead. The next minute there are all types of people with too much eyeliner and zippers on their patent leather pants dancing to semi shitty Indie Pop. I can't imagine it had anything to do with the 1$ PBR's. For those of you who aren't in the know PBR stands for "Pabst Blue Ribbon". I'm not sure when they won that "Blue Ribbon" but it must have been back in the rusted steel beer can days. It's not that the beer tastes that bad, it's just that every time I have it I end up getting shit faced and waking up with a horrible hangover.
Come 3 o'clock in the A.M. I have no idea what time it is and feel like if I drink any more of this rusty beer I'm gonna need a tetanus shot. All I know is we have a pyramid of about 50 beer cans stacked in front of us and a booth full of spilled beer. Dave decided that we needed more cans for the beer pyramid and instead of using empty one's he just poured the half full ones onto the ground. So of course we are almost finished stacking the can's when Jay decides it would be funny to knock them all over creating an even bigger mess of stale beer and empty cans.
Obviously this is a great time to leave and we take the opportunity before it is no longer an option. Leaving the bar Jay decides he'll start gunning it through the backstreets of downtown in the super hot KIA Rental he has acquired until he gets his other pimp ride back. Along the way there was a 5 gallon bucket Jay had no problem with running over. I tell you this bucket had more tenacity than most people I know. It stuck on his car all the way until we got to our early morning breakfast spot. Once we made it, bucket in tow, to IHOP I realized I had almost survived the night. The only people in and IHOP at that time of night are usually pimps and hookers and this night they were all sitting at the same table. We ordered our food and Jay ended up getting a "Side" of pork chops. I commented on the irony of getting a small meal with a "Side" of pork chops but Jay wasn't budging. He wanted his food. I thought that was akin to getting a salad with a side of steak. Maybe it's just me. After that we lost our magic bucket backing out of the parking space and proceeded to our designated sleeping areas. All in all it wasn't a bad night I just wish the feeling of being repeatedly kicked in the head wasn't so strong that next morning. Maybe I'll ask my bum of a foster father if he has any hangover remedies.
This is a flooded toilet at the Irish bar we went to.
The beginning of the end.
Jay after the first few beers at respectables. Those beers don't stand a chance
A failed attempt to suck beer from a can at long distance.
A couple minutes after the PBR's start to affect our vision.
Jay finally finds his true love!.
Here we are with some random ass dude in a gorilla suit and it wasn't even close to Halloween.
Almost to the top of the PBR Beer Pyramid.
After Jay decided those beer cans looked better on the ground.