It's HI-TIME to go to HI-TOPS!
Friday:
So Naomi and I went to Chicago this weekend and met up with Makdad along the way. Our Friday was fairly uneventful. We had some fine cheese fondue with Naomi's mother and eventually her mother's boyfriend--whom they affectionately call Hansi-poo. I'm sure he has all of his masculinity and dignity in tact.
After that, we spent a quiet evening watching movies. We plowed through Blood Diner, Foxy Brown, and--the most recent Bond movie--Die Another Day. I'd say I was a bit disappointed by the first, a little bored by the second, and a bit confused by the third. Now, it's not that I couldn't follow the plot of the Bond movie. Wait. Let's see. How about: now, it's not that the Bond movie had a plot to confuse me. I was confused how the first part of the movie could be so unbe-fucking-lieveably cool and fun while the second and third acts could make me take up smack again. Todd warned me before watching the film that the first 40 minutes are the best Bond film ever made and the rest is the worst. Ain't that the tooth, my friends. Be wary.
Saturday:
We woke up the next morning at ten and learned that Naomi's mother had found a two bedroom apartment for a grand a month in the LA area for us during her morning run. I didn't even shower that day. I did discover that, once again, I am somehow unskilled in games of chance when Naomi and I played some Yahtzee to kill time while we waited for Makdad. Rationally it doesn't make sense. The Law of Averages states that I must win at some point. Apparently that law has yet to be ratified in my case. You know what they say, though: "Unlucky at Yahtzee, lucky at love."
...I just remembered that I won the second Yahtzee game. Well, I guess that's good in a sense because the Yahtzee/love equation wasn't balancing out.
So anyway, Makdad swung in and we all swung out to go shopping in the big city. We went to a few stores, changed up the clothes to look dapper for the night life, and swung into a bar and grill named Trader Todd's to have some dinner.
The people there seemed to be happy to see us. The only business they'd had all day was a couple that had come in (drunk) at four that afternoon and demanded to sing karaoke...the karaoke that started at 8pm. They decided to drink heavily and be obnoxious to pass the time until they could drunkenly and obnoxiously belt out Styx or Journey. We tried to avoid them and so did our waiter, Turan. He was a cool guy our age who goes to DePaul, is in a fraternity, and works both at Trader Todd's and another bar. Like I said, they weren't getting any business that might distract him from, you know, hanging out.
Some other Turan tidbits:
he's a history major
he's not a very good card player (if only there was a way to play 7's for money)
his number one movie on his list of ten is Die Hard...With a Vengeance (followed closely by "Tom Hanks movies" and "Steven Spielberg movies" [both counted as one]; I restrained myself)
he works at HI-TOPS down the street from Trader Todd's where, if you say Love Stinks when you show up that Valentine's Day night, you don't have to pay cover and you get free drinks from 8-10pm
*record scratch*
"I'm sorry. What was that last one?" we asked. Yeah. Say the password; get in the door; drink for free. So we killed time for an hour and a half after that. Then we headed for HI-TOPS. We flashed the ID's and exclaimed joyously across the rooftops:
US: LOVE STINKS!
THEM: (blank stares)
US: L...Love stinks?
THEM: (blank stares, someone coughs politely in the distance)
US: Ahem. See, um, this guy who works at Trader Todd's told us to say that. Was that...should we not have done that?
THEM: (skeptical, confused) What was his name?
US: (beat) Well, see...uh, geez. It started with a "T", right? Tyrell? Tyran? Was it Turan? Yeah. Turan. He works here, too.
THEM: (doorman to an Official Looking Figure, looking through a list) Do we know a Turan? He's supposed to work here.
OLF: Who?
THEM: Turan? Tyran?
US: It could be Tyrell.
THEM: It could be Tyrell.
OLF: Hm. I don't know of anyone who works here by that name.
THEM: (to us, giving us an obvious bullshit option) Are you with the party?
US: Wha- Um, I don't...are we with the party? I'm not...love stinks?
THEM: (handing us a list of people, sure that we would take the hint this time) Here. Does any name on this list look familiar?
US: (drooling with stupidity, eyes glazed) Um, no. Are you sure a Turan doesn't work here?
THEM: (sighs, shaking head) Yes, just go in. Just...just go away.
The official looking guy eventually tracked us down and slapped some DayGlo orange wristbands on us, told us that the free drinks only went from 9-10pm, and we were good to go. We wandered in, across the "dance floor" (what I might modestly call "the middle of the bar"), to a small table at the far end of the place. We ordered a pitcher from our waitress, Kate, who apologized for showing up late. We checked her schedule and, yes, she was in fact late. We decided we would dock her pay if she didn't go get us a pitcher of beer immediately. She got us a pitcher of beer immediately. She had us fill out some cards for the chance to win a free VIP party at the place on any Saturday night of our choosing and hassled us for not drinking faster while touching Makdad as often as possible. Yes. Chicago night time truly is the
right time for Makdad.
So about HI-TOPS: think of Joe's. Think of KAM's. Think of Chicago. Think of our frowns as we watched the bar filling up with undesirables as the clock approached nine. That is HI-TOPS in a nutshell, but that doesn't even describe the worst part of the place: the bathroom. Makdad described it as a stadium bathroom. This is actually a very accurate statement. There were six urinals, each a foot apart, no walls, and the only "stall" had no door. That and everyone goes into the bathroom to use their cell phones. Now, I know this is personal information, but I simply cannot go wee in these conditions. I gots to have my privacy. Luckily, though, they have an attendant there to lend an air of distinction. It got to the point that, when I ran out of singles, I actually had to sneak out of the bathroom. Am I wrong, or is a dollar way too much to tip a guy who just hands you a towel (which are necessary because the blow dryers shoot straight into the stomach).
So we drank for an hour. We forwent the usual courtesies you show to people in a bar line. Not that I had anything against the House of Pain and the Salt 'n' Peppa they were playing or the extremely tall and frightening clientele, but I think that's because I was drinking with purpose that night. Makdad made a valiant effort with his drinking (more so than me), but Naomi was really carrying the team at this point. She literally had three drinks in front of her at one point, and they rotated out of there pretty fast. Speaking of out of there fast, we were as soon as ten o'clock rolled around.
We decided to sober up at Goose Island down the street with a basket of fries and more beer. We were feeling good at this point. We joked about what Naomi would do with breast implants (giggle, mostly), loudly sang along to the jukebox, and commented on the virtues of Blade, the vampire-hunting action film that was on TV at that current moment. Soon Plinko called and we headed off to meet him, stopping briefly at Walgreen's to not buy a Bruce Lee documentary for $3, opting instead to spend more money on alcohol.
We met Plinko at a bar called L & L's Lounge. He was hanging out with Nadine's cousin, Kathleen, and we were all drinking hard at that point. I haven't checked to see how much of the $150 I spent that night was on alcohol, but I could certainly hazard a guess.
We talked to Katie and Norm, two former Kansas City natives, for a while, drank more beer, took some shots, headed over to THE Baskin Robbins (you know what I'm talking about) and sobered up. Well, you know, Makdad sobered up because he was driving. I was actually incapable of ordering my own coffee at that point. We finally got back to Naomi's place (where I absolutely
had to brush my teeth--even if it was with Naomi's toothbrush) and we prepared for bed. I hear I was shushing and pouncing a lot. I also hear that I got offended when Naomi said that I wouldn't remember that section of the night. Nevermind that I actually wouldn't and
don't remember that bit; I was fighting for the principle of the thing, dammit.
Sunday:
The major highlight of Sunday was that Makdad talked us into stopping by to see Cara's parents with him. I have no idea what circumstances would allow us to find no flaw in the idea. I make no judgments. I simply say that it was readily apparent that Cara's father desperately needed contact with film people.
After that we had a pleasant ride home, and I hung out with Naomi and, eventually, Kate in town.
Epilogue:
I got this in my email today:
* * *
Drew - Thanks for partying at HI-TOPS! My name is Jessica and I'm the VIP Party Hostess.
Remember that card you filled out for Kate? Take a minute... think back... it's somewhere in the fog of that night...) Well.....Great news! Kate gave me your card to make sure you won a HI-TOPS VIP PARTY!
"But Jessica," you ask, "what does this mean?!?"
***As a VIP, you get to reserve a Saturday (the hottest night of the week!) for your amazing VIP party.
***Once I've cleared that night for you, you can invite as many people as you want: your friends, your co-workers, that guy who sold you tickets to the last game...
***On the night of your party, you and your guests will receive free entry from 8-10pm and complimentary drinks from 9-10pm! That includes all draft beer and call mixed drinks!!
* * *
Thanks, Jessica, but I would never ask a question with more than one question mark, and the exclamation point is frankly just insulting. I
will, however, be taking Jessica up on her free drinks. Anyone have a Saturday in particular that they'd like to have an hour's drinks for free in the big city?
