Wutzizname (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} wutzizname) wrote,@ 2005-11-12 12:53:00 |
|
One Saturday night in February in the wee city of Baltimore...
There was (and still is) a nightclub called 'The Have a Nice Day Cafe' where people can cram into the club, and be overwhelmed by the nostalgic memorabilia that goes on around them as they drink their coronas, coors light, Heineken, and Sam Adams by the bottle from the tub o' beers, before heading to the 'present day' room that's down the hall where they play annoying canned music that you'll hear on a commercial three months later after your visit with an 800 number flashing on a blue screen. (~~come baby come, baby baby come come....~~)
Any given night, you can find a line outside this club, because it's in the 'tourist section' of Downtown Baltimore, near all the restaraunts and shops that you can find in most cities. Down from Fuddrucker's. Near the Baja Beach Club, etc. etc. It's the corporate franchise section, not to be confused with more historic locations like Federal Hill, Fells' Point, Canton, or Mt. Vernon.
The night in particular happened on a February in '98. I was there with my brother, and two friends of mine from my old neighborhood. We stood there, near the end of the line, myself donning double layered t-shirt, thin sweater, and light jacket, so as to look charming, yet warm as well. Standing as close as our heterosexual persona could allow in such a social setting, letting the night air passively wisp away our cologne, watching our earlobes, and nostrils turn a slight reddish tint.
It was not the burgeoning, overdeveloped corporate behemoth that it is now (as in...there was no improv there to give you a precise location) but development was in process.
As in, they'd cut down the planted trees in the brickwalk, and planned to do it all over again with newer, more exciting...brick.
Now....as it was February, there was snow. As it is Baltimore, it was unseasonably warm, so instead of cold, packed snow, there was slush here and there.
Particularly, in the 4' x 4' divets in the brickwalk where they had just removed the small trees. The tragic part of it all is that the slush on the brickwalk camouflaged them perfectly, making them look like more wet slushy brickwalk. A most unlikely, and most unexpected trap for anyone who was walking along outside the club.
...which is to say...a potential group of tourists, drunks, and partygoers numbering well into the thousands.
It was the perfect trap. It wasn't just a puddle that was 4 feet wide. It was full of slush, water, and a most unforgiving mixture of mud and rock salt.
Ankle deep, if not mid-calf in the very middle, where the tree was.
We stood in line, and I believe, among the crowd that stood waiting to get in, that I was the one who noticed the pattern first.
Two girls were walking along, giggling, when one of them stepped down into the puddle on the edge, and fell victim not to her own keen dexterity, but her cruel trendy elevator shoes who denied her brief solace on the edge, and let her fall back into the puddle, ass-first, landing one hand, and one khaki-covered cheek into the puddle, tensed as she was both shocked, and grossed out at the same time. My brother let out a sympathetic 'Awwww...' Tim and I smirked while Jody the grim quietly smoked and watched, much like a driver passing the scene of an accident.
I watched as she was taken away by her friend, her sleeve and pants soaked through in that cold winter air, and I thought, 'Damn. She's going to have to go all the way home to get that taken care of. Her night is ruined.' I felt regret for her as any stranger would as we watched them leave.
As I fixed my vision toward the scene of the incident, it was THEN that I saw it.
Someone else was coming, and they were heading right for the trap.
I wanted to stop them, but I did what I usually do: I mentioned to my brother that I saw something. This has developed over the years since I was little, and I was able to point out an approaching German Shepherd about to break up my throng of friends and cousins standing around on any street corner in Catonsville. I digress...
I nudged my brother, and pointed, mainly with my chin toward the slush-puddle's second victim - a 20-something on her cellphone in heels. Too sexy to be spoken to by strangers, we quickly observed that there was no hope for her as she walked purposefully past the line outside the club, hands by her head, shutting out the noise, ignoring everything, and giving everyone (behind her) a chance to notice that she proably wasn't wearing much beneath her skin tight pants.
She might have gotten it the worst.
She was too busy looking over at the front of another club, ignoring someone calling to her from the line (probably warning her to watch her step) when she stepped into the DEEP part of the puddle, and while screaming in shock, dropped cer cellphone at the same time her second foot went in. She freaked out just long enough to drop the phone, which fell to the brickwalk, bounced, and broke into pieces. She did not however freak out so much as to fall down. She had to compose herself even though she was past ankle deep in wet, cold slushy filth. Whomever was on the phone with her probably thought she got robbed. I say she probably got it the worst because she lost her cellphone, her expensive shoes, and about 10,000 coolpoints in one instant in front of at least two hundred people. She gathered up her things, much like a mortified performer being ordered off the stage, and left, horribly embarrassed as well.
This was the best entertainment of the evening. I dare say, the best I've seen in years.
People didn't want to see it happen, but no one immediately spoke up, mainly because we didn't know whom to tell. Leaving the line would have caused for us to have to at least argue with someone to get back in where we were, and as we had been standing there for about 20 minutes, the line had gotten longer, so if anyone were to lose such an argument, they'd either have to stand at the end of the line (like a dumbass) or choose to just go home.
So, we had something to watch before going in.
About five minutes later, we noticed a handful of guys a slight ways ahead of us in line. Obviously typical nightclub sleazebags, two of the five or six of them wearing coats, all of them in wet hair, and sharing the same drunken giggling expression. One of them, mostly wearing white, was trying to play 'traffic cop' to the people walking by. He wasn't ACTIVELY trying to stop them, so much as he was gesturing to them in a passive manner to achieve eye contact, so as to warn them at half volume to not step in the puddle. He didn't really stray from the line, so much as he stood off from his group, and did his 'hands out from his sides' waving maneuver to everyone that came near him. Basically, he didn't do shit to help, he just wanted the attention.
After this guy went back to the line to giggle with his friends, another victim was nearly claimed, this one from another direction, and by another puddle. A guy and his girlfriend were walking side by side. She was about to get it when she started to go, and he saved her by looping her in his arm. This guy was obviously into football, as he tucked her to his ribs, and circled, to survey the territory.
The schmucks up front applauded.
The funniest thing was that it didn't happen too frequently, just every couple of minutes so the scenario would reset itself. Just when you thought it was over, the entertainment value skyrocketed.
After a while, people in line would wait for someone to step in the puddle, and then a voice would come from the line saying 'Watch it'.
People were obliviously being themselves on a Saturday night, when cold, harsh reality was given to them amidst their carelessness in the form of an unwelcomed icy-slushy footbath. It wasn't justice. It was the smallest tragedy in the city that night. If the puddle didn't ruin you, the applause from the hundreds of bystanders would.
So we waited.
Three girls, three abreast. The one in the middle went in ankle deep, and froze with a look of horror like so many other victims that night. It was only funnier, coupled by the third out of the group hitting the next puddle only two paces further. The one that didn't get wet screamed at the lot of us "HOW CAN YOU ALL JUST...STAND THERE!?!?!?" before they all left, evening plans doomed.
A near miss. 2 girls with too much in their hair went by, oblivious.
Another near miss.
The 'Traffic cop' from earlier comes forth from the line, and lays a crumpled up 5-dollar bill on the top of the puddle, lodged in a piece of slush.
The game was afoot. The line fell SILENT. People wanted to see the worst happen. In that moment, it had become "Slush Puddles: A reality show soon to come to Prime Time Television."
For a while, no one noticed.
Then, a group left the same club we were still standing in line to enter. They stood and chatted, much about whatever was their plans to get home. One of the men of the group noticed the money. He recognized it, and stepped sideways, still talking to his friend as he moved over to it. He looked around, seeing if anyone could have dropped it.
The line was silent, the schmucks, silent, facing forward, absoloutly still.
He went for it. He walked over to it, reaching down, he went in, a foot-fall short of his prize.
LANDING ON HIS KNEES.
(Splash!) The audience went "OHHHHHH!" much like the crowd at a hockey game.
People up and down the block thought there was a fight going on. The bouncers in the line for the club investigated to find a throng of people giggling for reasons they wouldn't explain.
5-dollar victim left, with his friends, apparently disgusted by the antics of the ne'er do-wells of this fair city. His pants STUCK to him revealing bits that were once floating in the puddle. Everyone watched him leave.
After the bouncers and the manager left the scene of the incident, Here comes 'traffic cop' once again. The Soggy, 5 dollar bill was found, and returned to the puddle. They waited again.
Another victim. Walking at a brisk pace, she noticed the money, froze, and went for it. (SPLASH!) She didn't go in half as far as Mr. Knees, but she got one foot wet, realizing what she was stepping in. She had good reflexes.
"HAAAYY!" The Hockey Fans cheered in unison, as another stranger's night was ruined. Friends were made fast in that line, as people's misfortunes were laid out on display for many to see.
My favorite was a couple, hand in hand, where the boyfriend stepped in one puddle, and realized his misfortune. ("OHHHHH!!") He soldiered on, trying not to let it affect him. Two paces later, splash. The other foot. ("OHHHHH!!") At this point, his girlfriend was giggling at his bad decisions. Finally, he saw the third one ahead of time, and jumped in with both feet, splashing out as much as he could. (AWWRIIIIGHT!!!) People shouted, and dodged, but laughed, as it was just too funny to be mad. They went home so girlfriend could give him pity sex. At least he wasn't pissed at what had happened.
...except for the drunken asshole who left a club in a frustrated huff, and caught one foot in the puddle. After the guys in line laughed at him, he announced to defend his ego "Anyone wants to talk about this, I'll be right down there.", whilst pointing where he was originally staggering. A voice came from the back of the line saying "Take your sensitive ass home and change your damned socks!" Everyone laughed in unison as my brother told me to shush.
Eventually, the line moved, and we got in. I must say, I had a better time that night waiting in line than going into the club. You just can't pay for that level of entertainment.
There was (and still is) a nightclub called 'The Have a Nice Day Cafe' where people can cram into the club, and be overwhelmed by the nostalgic memorabilia that goes on around them as they drink their coronas, coors light, Heineken, and Sam Adams by the bottle from the tub o' beers, before heading to the 'present day' room that's down the hall where they play annoying canned music that you'll hear on a commercial three months later after your visit with an 800 number flashing on a blue screen. (~~come baby come, baby baby come come....~~)
Any given night, you can find a line outside this club, because it's in the 'tourist section' of Downtown Baltimore, near all the restaraunts and shops that you can find in most cities. Down from Fuddrucker's. Near the Baja Beach Club, etc. etc. It's the corporate franchise section, not to be confused with more historic locations like Federal Hill, Fells' Point, Canton, or Mt. Vernon.
The night in particular happened on a February in '98. I was there with my brother, and two friends of mine from my old neighborhood. We stood there, near the end of the line, myself donning double layered t-shirt, thin sweater, and light jacket, so as to look charming, yet warm as well. Standing as close as our heterosexual persona could allow in such a social setting, letting the night air passively wisp away our cologne, watching our earlobes, and nostrils turn a slight reddish tint.
It was not the burgeoning, overdeveloped corporate behemoth that it is now (as in...there was no improv there to give you a precise location) but development was in process.
As in, they'd cut down the planted trees in the brickwalk, and planned to do it all over again with newer, more exciting...brick.
Now....as it was February, there was snow. As it is Baltimore, it was unseasonably warm, so instead of cold, packed snow, there was slush here and there.
Particularly, in the 4' x 4' divets in the brickwalk where they had just removed the small trees. The tragic part of it all is that the slush on the brickwalk camouflaged them perfectly, making them look like more wet slushy brickwalk. A most unlikely, and most unexpected trap for anyone who was walking along outside the club.
...which is to say...a potential group of tourists, drunks, and partygoers numbering well into the thousands.
It was the perfect trap. It wasn't just a puddle that was 4 feet wide. It was full of slush, water, and a most unforgiving mixture of mud and rock salt.
Ankle deep, if not mid-calf in the very middle, where the tree was.
We stood in line, and I believe, among the crowd that stood waiting to get in, that I was the one who noticed the pattern first.
Two girls were walking along, giggling, when one of them stepped down into the puddle on the edge, and fell victim not to her own keen dexterity, but her cruel trendy elevator shoes who denied her brief solace on the edge, and let her fall back into the puddle, ass-first, landing one hand, and one khaki-covered cheek into the puddle, tensed as she was both shocked, and grossed out at the same time. My brother let out a sympathetic 'Awwww...' Tim and I smirked while Jody the grim quietly smoked and watched, much like a driver passing the scene of an accident.
I watched as she was taken away by her friend, her sleeve and pants soaked through in that cold winter air, and I thought, 'Damn. She's going to have to go all the way home to get that taken care of. Her night is ruined.' I felt regret for her as any stranger would as we watched them leave.
As I fixed my vision toward the scene of the incident, it was THEN that I saw it.
Someone else was coming, and they were heading right for the trap.
I wanted to stop them, but I did what I usually do: I mentioned to my brother that I saw something. This has developed over the years since I was little, and I was able to point out an approaching German Shepherd about to break up my throng of friends and cousins standing around on any street corner in Catonsville. I digress...
I nudged my brother, and pointed, mainly with my chin toward the slush-puddle's second victim - a 20-something on her cellphone in heels. Too sexy to be spoken to by strangers, we quickly observed that there was no hope for her as she walked purposefully past the line outside the club, hands by her head, shutting out the noise, ignoring everything, and giving everyone (behind her) a chance to notice that she proably wasn't wearing much beneath her skin tight pants.
She might have gotten it the worst.
She was too busy looking over at the front of another club, ignoring someone calling to her from the line (probably warning her to watch her step) when she stepped into the DEEP part of the puddle, and while screaming in shock, dropped cer cellphone at the same time her second foot went in. She freaked out just long enough to drop the phone, which fell to the brickwalk, bounced, and broke into pieces. She did not however freak out so much as to fall down. She had to compose herself even though she was past ankle deep in wet, cold slushy filth. Whomever was on the phone with her probably thought she got robbed. I say she probably got it the worst because she lost her cellphone, her expensive shoes, and about 10,000 coolpoints in one instant in front of at least two hundred people. She gathered up her things, much like a mortified performer being ordered off the stage, and left, horribly embarrassed as well.
This was the best entertainment of the evening. I dare say, the best I've seen in years.
People didn't want to see it happen, but no one immediately spoke up, mainly because we didn't know whom to tell. Leaving the line would have caused for us to have to at least argue with someone to get back in where we were, and as we had been standing there for about 20 minutes, the line had gotten longer, so if anyone were to lose such an argument, they'd either have to stand at the end of the line (like a dumbass) or choose to just go home.
So, we had something to watch before going in.
About five minutes later, we noticed a handful of guys a slight ways ahead of us in line. Obviously typical nightclub sleazebags, two of the five or six of them wearing coats, all of them in wet hair, and sharing the same drunken giggling expression. One of them, mostly wearing white, was trying to play 'traffic cop' to the people walking by. He wasn't ACTIVELY trying to stop them, so much as he was gesturing to them in a passive manner to achieve eye contact, so as to warn them at half volume to not step in the puddle. He didn't really stray from the line, so much as he stood off from his group, and did his 'hands out from his sides' waving maneuver to everyone that came near him. Basically, he didn't do shit to help, he just wanted the attention.
After this guy went back to the line to giggle with his friends, another victim was nearly claimed, this one from another direction, and by another puddle. A guy and his girlfriend were walking side by side. She was about to get it when she started to go, and he saved her by looping her in his arm. This guy was obviously into football, as he tucked her to his ribs, and circled, to survey the territory.
The schmucks up front applauded.
The funniest thing was that it didn't happen too frequently, just every couple of minutes so the scenario would reset itself. Just when you thought it was over, the entertainment value skyrocketed.
After a while, people in line would wait for someone to step in the puddle, and then a voice would come from the line saying 'Watch it'.
People were obliviously being themselves on a Saturday night, when cold, harsh reality was given to them amidst their carelessness in the form of an unwelcomed icy-slushy footbath. It wasn't justice. It was the smallest tragedy in the city that night. If the puddle didn't ruin you, the applause from the hundreds of bystanders would.
So we waited.
Three girls, three abreast. The one in the middle went in ankle deep, and froze with a look of horror like so many other victims that night. It was only funnier, coupled by the third out of the group hitting the next puddle only two paces further. The one that didn't get wet screamed at the lot of us "HOW CAN YOU ALL JUST...STAND THERE!?!?!?" before they all left, evening plans doomed.
A near miss. 2 girls with too much in their hair went by, oblivious.
Another near miss.
The 'Traffic cop' from earlier comes forth from the line, and lays a crumpled up 5-dollar bill on the top of the puddle, lodged in a piece of slush.
The game was afoot. The line fell SILENT. People wanted to see the worst happen. In that moment, it had become "Slush Puddles: A reality show soon to come to Prime Time Television."
For a while, no one noticed.
Then, a group left the same club we were still standing in line to enter. They stood and chatted, much about whatever was their plans to get home. One of the men of the group noticed the money. He recognized it, and stepped sideways, still talking to his friend as he moved over to it. He looked around, seeing if anyone could have dropped it.
The line was silent, the schmucks, silent, facing forward, absoloutly still.
He went for it. He walked over to it, reaching down, he went in, a foot-fall short of his prize.
LANDING ON HIS KNEES.
(Splash!) The audience went "OHHHHHH!" much like the crowd at a hockey game.
People up and down the block thought there was a fight going on. The bouncers in the line for the club investigated to find a throng of people giggling for reasons they wouldn't explain.
5-dollar victim left, with his friends, apparently disgusted by the antics of the ne'er do-wells of this fair city. His pants STUCK to him revealing bits that were once floating in the puddle. Everyone watched him leave.
After the bouncers and the manager left the scene of the incident, Here comes 'traffic cop' once again. The Soggy, 5 dollar bill was found, and returned to the puddle. They waited again.
Another victim. Walking at a brisk pace, she noticed the money, froze, and went for it. (SPLASH!) She didn't go in half as far as Mr. Knees, but she got one foot wet, realizing what she was stepping in. She had good reflexes.
"HAAAYY!" The Hockey Fans cheered in unison, as another stranger's night was ruined. Friends were made fast in that line, as people's misfortunes were laid out on display for many to see.
My favorite was a couple, hand in hand, where the boyfriend stepped in one puddle, and realized his misfortune. ("OHHHHH!!") He soldiered on, trying not to let it affect him. Two paces later, splash. The other foot. ("OHHHHH!!") At this point, his girlfriend was giggling at his bad decisions. Finally, he saw the third one ahead of time, and jumped in with both feet, splashing out as much as he could. (AWWRIIIIGHT!!!) People shouted, and dodged, but laughed, as it was just too funny to be mad. They went home so girlfriend could give him pity sex. At least he wasn't pissed at what had happened.
...except for the drunken asshole who left a club in a frustrated huff, and caught one foot in the puddle. After the guys in line laughed at him, he announced to defend his ego "Anyone wants to talk about this, I'll be right down there.", whilst pointing where he was originally staggering. A voice came from the back of the line saying "Take your sensitive ass home and change your damned socks!" Everyone laughed in unison as my brother told me to shush.
Eventually, the line moved, and we got in. I must say, I had a better time that night waiting in line than going into the club. You just can't pay for that level of entertainment.
