and bigger question:
why do i continue to go back there?

they have this lame vip room that's free booze for members so after a carafe of sake and a glass of kir, we went to sugar.

the mistake, my friends, is in mixing up the drinks. why can't i stick to one thing?

am i that non-committal to where i can't even drink the same alcohol for a whole evening? it doesn't even have to be the exact same. just the same genre would be good.

it was because we went for sushi (so i had to drink sake) and then to this wine bar (so i had a kir) and then since we were all dressed up, we decided to show up at sugar. dance off the spring rolls and do a few laps and hi-how-are-you-it's-so-great-to-see-yous and then leave. nope.

first, i went to order a drink and the mob around the bar was sick. i immediately wanted to retreat but i thought no. don't be a brat. just wait and drink for free so you don't hate yourself in the morning for having a huge bar tab from a wannabe bar.
unfortunately, that was not in the cards.

after finally scraping to the bar (dead center) i was patiently waiting for one of the bartenders when an overly manicured asshole in a black button-down shirt starts literally dangling money over my head. count them: 1, 2 dollars. $2!! are you serious???
so not only does this guy (who is at least a foot taller than me) basically have his arm resting on top of my head, but he is waving $2 at the female bartender, who is wearing red ruffled underpants, fish nets, and a black top. i thought no way is this cute little waitress who totally has it going on right now, going to go for this heteroquestionable broke dick's two crumpled dollar bills.
i turned to him and said ARE YOU KIDDING ME? and he persisted. only this time i realized he must only have $2 because he spent the rest of his allowance on hair gel and this heinous express-mens getup.
no sooner did i think this guy was toast, than did the bartender turn our way. approaching in slow motion. locked and ready to fire.
suddenly her eyes break from mine.
"what can i get for you?"
and the fucking harlet snatches the two dollar bills out of the guys hand.

that's it.
i couldn't do it.
i took off for the pedestrian bar where the wannabes actually want-to-be instead of think-they-are.



we had one more encounter with the bad metrosexual. it involved painfully watching him pursue this girl on the dancefloor... to the point of: it was so tragic, i actually felt a little sorry for him.
body: 8
hair & clothes: 4
moves: -14

he was so jerky and awkward that we stood in disbelief that this person even exists.
it was like the elaine benes, the carlton, and the hokey pokey all rolled into one. and the girl actually, literally, RAN away.

poor guy.
i hope he got his $2 worth.