Just Another American Saturday Night

My Saturday was anything but typical. In fact, it serves as a good example of why I think my life is random.

The night started off with my friend bringing over a selection of nice, diverse, and high-rated beers for a beer tasting. All I know about beer is that I like it, I started drinking it in college, blue moon is one of my favorites, and often you need to drink less of it because it is the most fattening of drinks. However, since with a tasting you don't really drink that much, I decided I could run longer later to make up for learning something besides how to chug it faster, or play a game with it. My friend, the same one who knew all about air and space and who I am now thinking of calling "the professor", has tried and learned to critique hundreds of beers. His hobby, or skill you might call it, even gets him a discount at his local store if he reviews the ones he tries. Pretty cool talent, eh? Even though we only liked the chocolate stout in the end and most of them did not really live up to their hype, I learned a good deal about the smells, the tastes, the way they are made, what they are made with, and how best to drink them. The fact that some of it is made with weasel poop seemed the most unappealing thing to find out. Liking beer often better than wine, I am excited that beer drinking can, in fact, be classy.

Following the tasting, we went to a Washington Capitals game. In my lifetime I have only seen a hockey game once... back in the day when the Rangers had Wayne Gretzky. Needless to say it had been a while and I was excited to re-experience the sport. In DC the Caps are the only really good sports team and more people turn out for hockey games than for anything else. I usually am just pissed off when there is a game as the metro to go to the gym and walk home is always packed instead of its usual empty state, but Saturday was different. First off, I have to say that Craigslist man hooked me UP with some good seats: 400 level but close to mid-ice. Though I know nothing about hockey rules, I actually enjoyed my clueless-ness. Most of the time, I wondered why hockey players do not wear more padding (I picture the skinny dude in Little Giants who comes to practice looking like a toilet paper roll covered in pads). I mean... hello they get hit HARD, often and legally, and on ICE or against the wall. I won't lie, though, the checking and hitting was fantastic to watch. I was also insanely amused by the video clips played throughout the game and at how cheering was fan initiated. Though the little boy behind me's attempt to start a cheer like J-E-T-S for the C-A-P-S, or cheer about the ref being blind and deaf failed, the man below and his crazy long horn definitely caught on.

First of all, you cannot see in this picture but the man had a full out Z-Z-Top beard. Secondly, this horn was LOUD (think Shofar at Temple, or one of those insanely annoying clown squeeze horns) and every time he blew on it three times the entire place went "Lets, Go, Caps". This happened in intervals of about three. The only thing I experienced close to this token fan is the man at Gator basketball games who fake blows on his towel like a trumpet while they play Call Me Al, but then again, no noise comes out of this fake instrument, and no one really responds to him. Thumbs up for me sitting with the head cheerleader.

After the Caps game we went to a friends house for game night where I ended up being the only girl for much of the time. This included hand written Apples to Apples (In this version, instead of Helen Keller always winning, it is usually whoever makes fun of each other the best) and Pictionary, which my partner and I won despite the fact that girls (at least the type of girl I am) do not know or use in everyday conversation many of the dirty phrases we had to illustrate and guess. Side and really randomly hilarious note, my friend lives in a house that used to be owned by some recording artist and I was given a free Ke$ha CD and some like "seximix" that he got in the mail. Ke$ha has a song that says it is the Veruca Salt remix and my life would be complete if this meant she actually sampled "I want it now".

After game night we headed out to the bars. This way I would not pass out on a chair like I did after wine and dinner at my friends place on Friday night. Very typical me. My friends choose to start the night in the shaddiest looking bar that gives you a rum and diet coke as... a glass of rum... and a can of diet coke. Oh, and the shots come as glasses and a full one of those ketchup squirt bottles of alcohol. After that bar, and trying to find girls for the guys at another bar, we went to dance at a place that I clearly missed the memo that it was only for interracial couples and girls whose tight skirts were just shy of showing everyone....well, everything. That place was AMAZING for people watching, but not so much anything else.

At around 1 am, I decided to head home. This was much easier said... than done. Literally like 6 empty cabs passed me by because they wanted to pick up a group. Thank you DC for allowing there to be a charge of $1.50 per extra person in the cab. I really wanted to stand outside in the cold, alone, at 1 am... until a cabby was nice enough to ignore your stupid group-incentive, and get me. But, typical me, the cabby that I did get...was OFF his rocker. He ranks up there with the one who told me he was going to blow up all the rich people. First of all, he was a redneck white dude who had no teeth. Since honestly redneck is probably not the worst appearance you can get for a cabby, I was ok getting in the car. Then came the good stuff. He was a Maryland cab driver who was not supposed to drive in DC...and could get arrested for doing so. Did that mean I had to duck if we saw Cops?!?!...Yep. He was in DC to help a friend get his car because he had been arrested. AWESOME company he is keeping. Oh, did I say I moved from Philly?...Well, he lived in Philly once, when he was HIDING OUT FROM THE COPS. Oh Great. I think I need to get out of the cab now... To make things even more interesting, when he dropped me off, he gave me his card. Of course it could not just have his name on it...which in itself is so perfect with his looks...it has to look like this:

I do not know if it is me and my luck... or what, but DC has the weirdest collection of cab drivers I have ever been around in my life. I feel like weekly I am on Candid Camera inside the cab or something because there is no way they can actually be serious. Oh well....at least it's something to look forward to....