Today I went to band practice, early. Got there real early, went to get fast food. My order was screwed up and there was a situation with that which I would normally have written a lot about.

Later on, in the early evening, I got some more fast food, and my order was screwed up again. Yadda yadda, would've written more about that.

Since it was a crowded place, and our table was so big, people would periodically sit down at our table. We talked a bit about life and such. I was pretty happy because I had not seen Lil in a long time. Eventually the subject of my self-ostracization from social life came up. You see, I have a hard time relating to strangers, even though I think they are fascinating to watch. Lil proceeded to illustrate the workings of barroom social dynamics. "If you want to meet people, you don't sit in a corner table like this. You sit at the bar," she said. "It's pretty crowded, eventually you jostle someone's elbows, apologize, start a conversation." Strangely, this is how it really works, even though it seems so contrived. "Oops, I bumped your elbow. Hi there. My name is Andrew. Would you like to be my friend?" I need some practice.

Walking around the place in search of interesting people, we came upon a large man eating a big plate of nachos. "Let's just stare at him until he gets paranoid," Lil suggested. After standing there staring at this guy eat for 5 minutes, he sat up a little and started smoking. Lil got impatient and started talking with him, and eating his nachos. In a couple of minutes I was being urged to try some nachos. "Uh...no thanks." No really, try some. "Um...okay." Had a tiny little nacho. Left that table and sat at a booth, where a couple was being mushy. "Don't let us offend you!" they said. Ooookay. Next table. "Hey, try that one Andrew...it's a single blonde." Yup it was. He was very drunk and just staring at the front cover of The Stranger (the local paper, not the book). Oopsie. Well, he started explaining about how he had ridden his motorcycle up from San Francisco, and look, his arms were sunburned. Okaay.

The bar started closing. By that time, Lil had had a few drinks (more than I did) and was set on finding a party to go to. She spoke to multiple people in the bar, and even the band (Overtly homosexual brits. No that's not their name, thats what they were.) but couldn't find anything. So out the door we went, contemplating our next move outside the door, with the sunburned blonde guy babbling nearby.

We decided to go to a 24 hour cafe. It took a while to flag down a taxi, but the driver knew exactly what Lil was talking about. She had been to this cafe a few years back, and knew it was open 24 hours.

We took a seat at a nearly empty table. The man seated there looked like a nervous used car salesman. His indestructable grin simultaneously annoyed me and unnerved me. (TWO double N words!) Lil went to go call her roommate to pick us the hell up. Meanwhile, the icky guy is telling me about how he just came from another bar, and in the taxi on the way he lost his brand new pipe. "Oh. That's a bummer," said Andrew, "you should call the cab company." "Oh yeah right," he said, "there's like a gram in the bag too." "Eh. Oh well," I said, not wanting to know what it was a gram of.

On the table next to me there was a massive pair of sideburns (attached to a guy), and a big fat woman who looked like she used to be a man. The waiter brought a plate with a steaming meat burger on it to the table and set it in front of the delighted car salesman guy. A minute later he picked it up and said "oops. YOU'RE the guy with the (garbled)." and set it in front of Mr. 2 Sideburns. The waiter had his own massive sideburns. (Subjective opinion: Astoundingly stupid-looking. with or without sideburns.) I got sick of my neigbors and went to see what was taking Lil so long. She was talking to a (odd-vibe emanating) female patron. When I got to where she was standing, she said 'hey, there's a table opening up over here!' and sat down at a dirty table that still had the tip on it. Eventually a chubby, oily man scooped up the tip, then wiped off the table, as Lil tried to order juice (loudly!). He ignored her and went away. Lil was getting pretty unruly at this point and was glaring at our seated neighbors, tattooed weirdos. (The vibe was getting weirder. Like being in a room full of psychopathic murderers who are on break.) Fifteen minutes passed with no waiter. I noticed the TV was playing scenes of crushed, mutilated people being pulled from car wrecks. It had been playing that same thing since we walked in. I actually noticed when we walked in, but it was so weird, I had to save it till now. The table next to us was having some sort of conversation about hurting people. Anyway. Mr. Stupid-ass-looking-sideburns-the-lousy-waiter came back and asked what we wanted. Lil ordered her juice very loudly. "Large!" she added. When he asked me what I wanted, I said "nothing." He said, "That's it, you guys are out of here. Goodbye." Lil became very VERY upset. "Order something!" she told me. "No. We're leaving," I replied. I had to be an asshole, but we eventually got up and started leaving. "FINE then, lets do some DAMAGE!" she said, and as she walked out the door, she swiped her arm across the counter, knocking a bunch of glassware to the ground. This set off a little reaction in the kitchen, and people started coming out after us. Amazingly, her roommate had JUST PULLED UP, and we jumped in the vehicle and escaped with our lives.

Lil was upset and had to be assured that it wasn't her fault that we were thrown out. When you have had a lot of alcohol, things like this have a lot more impact on you than they merit, I guess. I was sort of miffed at being thrown out at first, but then I realized that the place was meant only for a cool elite. The guys with big ass sideburns. The chicks who look vaguely off. The soldiers of darkness and what not. I can not think of a good reason for me to ever be there again. They don't want me there. They have nothing I want.

I got dropped off at home an hour or so ago. Well, it was an interesting day, I guess. I wonder what the hell is up with that bar? SOMETHING is NOT RIGHT there. It reeks of sick minds. Not sick as in some generic mental illness. More like twisted demonic insanity. I am afraid of that place now. Maybe it's a bunch of kids playacting at being murderous, and I'm an april fish who fell for it as hard as any conservative mustache. My imagination keeps coming up with things like: It's the cafe where serial murderers convene, this fact only known to the owner and an underground information network. It could be the beer. I'm not used to being intoxicated. Perhaps it affects me by amplifying my paranoia. I know it blew Lil's guilt way out of scale. I hope it was the beer.

In any case I've got a massive headache. I've found out new things to like and new things to dislike. Maybe it was the unfamiliar idea that any random person could be a potential conversation and intelligent interaction that made me see the cafe people differently. Where the people in the bar were simply dopey and a little friendly, the people in the cafe's ego was built completely on excluding people. Hep.

God, am I actually mad about getting thrown out? How stupid is that? Note to self: Do not get drunk in situations where you'll have to deal with typical people.