The Great Sausage Fest of 2002
Its May of 2002 and I had just recently moved to Portland, Oregon and my brother wanted to come visit me from Eugene. He said he had a friend in town that could show us around and we could go have some drinks. We met up with my bro's friend outside a restaraunt, Fellini, which is associated with it's neighoring club, Satyricon. Fellini is known for the strong drinks, but the ones we were given were quite weak.
The Shanghai Tunnel was our next stop and I thought was alright because it had a vodka I liked. The vodka was a Polish style potato vodka and it is smooth as sipping whiskey. We had a couple drinks there and then wandered over to some other bar, the name of which escapes me. The bar was a little lame for me, being a strange mix of hipster and the burgeoning metro style. We had a few more drinks there and I remember them being twice as expensive as the Tunnel's.
It was now somwhere between 9 and 11 and I can not remember where we were, but the friend was talking about a girl he had recently started dating/seeing/screwing. He was not sure what was going on between them, but he was sure that she was hanging out with her gay friend, Todd. They were at some club. A perhaps short while later, the friend suggests that if we want to meet some chicks that really want to meet guys, we should go to this place he knows. He says that it is a little out of the way and will take a bit to walk there. We're all pretty drunk by this time and my brother and I say yes. Which sounded a lot like fuck yeah, but let's not split hairs.
We wander around for probably 45 minutes, but I can't really be sure. The friend says we are getting close and wants to explain something. He says that it is not exactly your average club. We keep walking and ask what he means. He is evasive. We are drunk and not worried. We get to this place and the bouncer looks at us like what the fuck are you doing here and that is when I notice the sign, 'The Three Sisters', and the black plastic drapes hanging in the doorway. Irealize that we are about to enter a strip joint and that it is probably a gay strip joint. This takes about five minutes to percolate through my mind, meanwhile the friend is negotiating with the bouncer. The friend says the cover is ten dollars for us. I inquire into the amount of supposed girls inside. Bouncer says there are girls inside. I am drunk and this jives with everything heard so far tonight so I say sure, lets go in.
Well, there was a girl inside. It happened to be the girl the firend was sort of dating and her gay friend, Todd. He introduced himself to me as Todd, Todd the Rodd. I shit you not. This precipitated a protracted argument between Todd and my attraction to women and overall not-gayness. It was pretty funny the next morning, but I'll get to that later. My bro and I are a little annoyed because there are no other women beside the one the friend was seeing. It was all just naked dudes and dudes putting dollars bills into naked dudes pouches. At least there was Pabst on tap. For the most part I sat and watched TV at the bar. This was and is the only bar where I have been happy to see a TV. The movie playing was 'Valentine' and the channel was USA and the bartender wanted to know what the hell I was doing there. I told him we had been duped by our friend into coming here because of all the hot, horny, lonely girls who come to look at cock. He said that they usually come in right before closing. I didn't believe him and tried to avoid getting my butt pinched too much. Ladies, I feel your pain, some dudes are just way too aggressive.
So, after a while, some ladies did come in and I went after them like a cruise missile. I started talking to one blonde and she fit the bill. She wanted to know why I was there and I told her the story about the friend and the girl and the supposed hordes of women. She said that she was a regular because she just wasn't meeting the right kinds of guys. We danced and talked and were generally hitting it off until the lights came on after half an hour. Her friends were pretty drunk and she said that hse ahad to take them home and I was a dumbass and with the sheer volume of penises running through my short term memory I forgot about my own and didn't ask for a number. I never saw her again.
Todd the Rodd disappeared and I never saw him again either, thank you very much, and we all started walking home. Still being drunk, I daydreamed that I was Nemesis Enforcer from the G.I. Joe movie and walked ahead of everybody and fought imaginary beasts with my giant claws and Cobra-la strength.
It turned out that the girl lived in the same building as the friend, so he got some. My bro and I were given the keys to the friend's apartment and told we could eat whatever. I went right to the porch and sat down to clear my head and my bro started cooking something. He comes out onto the porch and says that he found some food and hands me a plate of two cooked sausages. I thought he was being funny and started laughing. He asks what is so funny and starts eating and I said that I had seen way to much sausage that evening. My bro nearly choked on his, ahem, sausage. We both cracked up and ate our sausages and fell asleep on the friends futon.
The next morning the friend admitted that he mostly wanted to see the girl and hadn't expected there to be girls at the club. The girl said that I had made an impression on Todd. I asked her to explain to the guy that it was never going to happen. My bro ad the friend then ripped on me for a while. It was funny.
Thus ends the story of the Great Sausage Fest of 2002.