05.10.08 - 5:56 pm

lesbians, gunfights and strippers.
i watched as much of the sting in concert dvd as time would allow. my uncle was passionately involved with the reactions of sting and his band all deciding how to adjust their big concert the day of 9/11. sting has a beautiful villa in italy. hes a real son of a bitch. i took my time getting showered, dressed and saying goodbye to my uncle and aunt. it was late, almost ten. father had already left an hour or so ago, and jillian left promptly after dinner. i was displeased, not really looking forward to going out to more clubs again, nor spending a fortune on drinks and inaudible conversations. the hour drive to jillians house was also a gamble, as my phone had suddenly refused to work and i had no other means of locating her or getting into her house or calling anyone else once i arrived were she not there. coincidentally enough, as my big white van slowly pulled down her street, a big V8 explorer passed and stopped. it was jill and two girls from her basketball team, lauren and sybil. they were just leaving on their way to a lesbian bar. i wasnt about to turn that down.
first stop: a convenience store for liquor and drinks to mix it with. i picked up vodka and some rockstar, desperately hoping to recapture the drink of my past. i got some beer just in case i failed. apparently in arizona you can drink in the car, as long as the driver is physically unable to reach the alcohol whilst driving. i struggled with believing this. second stop: parking lot. this lesbian bar, boycott, was in a shady strip mall. while i dont remember specifically what stores straddled this particular bar, it very well could have been 24 hour cash advance and a walgreens. after choking down some more drinks, we entered easily with sybil as our fearless leader. she knows bouncers. the entire establishment was tiny, like a set for a tv show. there was the ballaz club, a roped off area with latex seats and dim lighting guarded by a dancing bouncer. there was the sparsely filled dance floor gyrating with gays, lesbians and transvestites. most patrons of the bar just stood rocking beyond the reach of the flashing lights, as if they were struggling to find the courage to get out there and twist with the music. the bar itself had two ceiling poles which were skewering two partially dressed girls. they would thoroughly use these poles the entire evening, but also make time to walk across the bar, push aside your drinks and make sure you paid attention to their inner thighs. the bathrooms were separated by sex, but this was more of a guide really. the girls bathroom was always filled with well, girls, but mostly just girls infront of the mirror. the guys bathroom was usually filled with my sister and her four other friends all stuffed into one tiny stall, while i was forced to use the trough that was provided. this proved to be too difficult to use. when the line got too long for the single stall, id usually let the girls standing in line with me use it; my bladder is physically larger than theirs anyway.
yes, i attempted the dance floor. what else was i going to do? i couldnt talk to anyone here. i didnt want to be that straight guy talking to a lesbian girl who thought she was being hit on by an ignorant straight guy. while i thought i was doing a damn good job shuffling around the circle of towering female basketball players, i would later be told i was doing a terrible job. apparently jillian can find the beat better than i can. at one point, a large hand firmly pushed my head to the floor, while another hand gripped my hips and thrust them backwards into a groin. it was sybil, and she was defiling me. i cheerfully appreciated the psuedo doggie style rape as my official welcoming into their friend circle. after an hour or so we would then leave, but not before i closed my tab from the 77 year old female bartender. what the hell was she doing here? we would leave boycott with one more member: a stripper that doubled as sybils occasional girlfriend.
the next bar we arrived at, incognito, was near to what appeared to be an empty gas station. a short, one story brick wall and a single flashing doorway. and three hundred black people swarming in a dense horde bottlenecked at the door. so many people. all of them black. jillian and i were the only caucasians, next to the one or two thick white girls leaving the club. the guys were dressed from prep to thug. girls were dressed, for the most part. in portland, this many black people shoved together in a big crowd trying to get into a club would have attracted the attention of several police cars. we made our way to the front of the line, again, sybil had her connections. in addition to effortlessly skipping ahead of the hundreds of other people directly to the front of the line, a pleasant surprise welcomed us at the door: a 75 year old janet reno and a shredded DMX. janet reno barked for everyone to get back, collected wads of cash in her hands and told people to fuck off. DMX provided the muscle as he politely told people to step aside and make room. sybil and lauren and the two other girls paid for everyone and slipped in easily, but as jill and i followed, janet reno stepped in and demanded the twenty dollar cover charge. confused, we explained the girls we were holding hands with had just paid for us. she said no they hadnt.
"do you want to get in this club or not? otherwise fuck off. twenty dollars."
"but you were just given money to let us in..."
"im not going to tell you again, step the fuck back or youre not getting in."
"ok, im stepping back."
"get the fuck out of here, you are not coming in. get back, dont let him in."
i stood stunned. what had just transpired in those last 12 seconds? DMX pushed him arm out, calmly told me and jill to "...just get back, and let her cool off and ill try to get you guys in in just a bit." jesus, janet reno was a real bitch. and real old. and really white. the sole gatekeeper for an obviously black club. what the hell was she doing there? eventually one of the other girls dropped an additional twenty bucks to let jill and i in, much to the dismay of janet reno.
"didnt i tell you you couldnt come in?"
she half smirked, stamped my wrist and told me to move. so, hand in hand, jill and i found the rest of our group and crashed into the packed dance floor. a single, solid mass of people. jill and i looked at each other, the kind of look that said, "we are the only white people in this entire establishment. fuck yeah." it wasnt two minutes before the girls decided to pee, so, not wanting to be the only white dude unable to dance on a floor filled with skilled hip hop dancers....i followed. i stood outside the bathroom, leaning on an empty table, and while i waited for the girls to finish, called julie. i looked over at the bartender, again, an old white woman. probably in her mid fifties. what the hell?

suddenly a huge rush of people burst through the door. about a dozen of people came sprinting past me. this is awesome! i thought, thinking that the wait to get in had been too much for everyone and a bum rush had just taken place. then another wave of people came running through the door, only this time, they started hiding behind the pool tables and chairs. thats a little peculiar, i thought. i mean, if they didnt want to get caught by the bouncers they certainly shouldnt be hiding in plain view. still talking to julie, i saw the stripper walk calmly through the front door and approach me. i asked her what happened, looking at all the people still huddled close to the floor behind the pool table.

two guys in the parking lot started shooting at each other.

i told julie i had to go and hung up, as the emergency door suddenly opened to another rush of people pouring in at full sprint. the front door also began to hemorrhage another mass of people. the lights all kicked on. the thumping rap music stopped. suddenly the DJ demanded that everyone needed to leave right now. so then everyone started running out of the bar in one rapid mass. the incognito parking lot was empty except for the six police cars that had suddenly materialized. the stripper said that the guys shot into the air, into the crowd and at each other. disappointingly, i didnt see any bodies on the ground. i got into the drivers seat, put it into gear and headed back to sybils.

the rest of the evening was spent on a couch, seated next to jillian and lauren. a handful of dudes stood around, holding beers or bottles of liquor and joked amongst themselves. in one of the bedrooms, another group of dudes stood around a bed where two fat white girls laid. the dudes walked in and out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind them. they must have just been begging for those two girls to start messing around or dishing out blow jobs. meanwhile out in the living room, two strippers were hard at work grinding on each of the dudes standing around. lots of ankle grabbing, grinding and straddling. sybils stripper seemed to be trying to out do the other stripper, all while trying desperately to attract sybils attention. sybil seemed almost annoyed. then, when 5 am rolled around we decided to leave.

i had a plane to catch at 9 am.