I went to a dance club on Friday. It was exactly what a dance club should be. It had a big screen where the dancers where told how to dance and what to drink and fast to drink said drinks.
They were told to drink them very fast.
Apparently they were told to dance poorly, dress scandalously and yell inaudible things that likely shouldn't be said at all.
I didn't hear the big screen people tell anyone that, but then again I wasn't watching anything all that closely.
What someone should have told the Dance Bar was that it wasn't a Dance Bar, it was a Country Bar. Or perhaps someone should have told the sign guy and the guy who dressed the big dudes at the door and the little girls with the quickly drinkable drinks that it was a dance bar, not a country bar.
That way they could have avoided the embarrassing wide brim hats, corsets and Rockin' Rodeo sign out front.
They could have also avoided the disco
That's right, a disco
I think the people at this camp should start using those Big Screen people to teach us students French, because the people at the bar that night sure got the drink-a-lot-of-drinks-fast message. The big guy with the shaved head sure did, I think he even got the message a few times. I think he even started on The Message while he was shaving his head, because he left a bit in the middle that turned itself into a feux hawk. He then got The Message twice more at the bar and decided to pick a little guy up and yell inaudible things at him that shouldn't have been said at all. The little guy wasn't saying too much which I am sure was because he thought Big Guy might rip his little arms off like a Wookie.
A Wookie is what the big bear thing from Star Wars is. He sounds a bit like a loose fan belt.
The night ended soon after that, and appeared to end well. The little guy kept his arms and Big Guy was finally overcome by the bouncers. They had been outside removing a few other guys where were just as good of listeners as the big guy was.
Perhaps even better.
Bonne Nuit Maman,
--b
1 comment:
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