So I'm slowly recovering from the events chronicled in my last post, and then coozan Pat, bless him (find him a good woman already, people. Really.), suggests that, instead of a Geek Dinner, all of the NOLA bloggers commandeer a local saloon for a Geek Happy Hour. My instant reaction to this:
I think our sheer numbers and alcohol-imbibing capacity would conceivably shut down any drinking establishment this side of the Mississippi. We need to reserve that power for the proper time and unleash it only when absolutely necessary.
Which means we need to head inside the Beltway and head to some bars frequented by many, many Congressional aides to have these Geek Happy Hours. It would truly be the NOLA equivalent of flushing all the toilets in the Pentagon at the same time, methinks. Hell, if we're all drunk enough, we can probably do that, too.
Has anyone made the final arrangements on the Rising Tide conference yet? 8-)
Well, has anyone?
If not, I nominate Pat for entertainment directeur for such stellar idears.
Summer's a comin', people, as is hurricane season. We need an injection of life into all this muggy morass. If it takes hijacking a bus for a bloggers' drinking bout...uh...conference, then so be it.
Bottoms up, y'all.
__________________
While we're all at it, maybe we can demand some sort of satisfaction from the people responsible for this. Yeah, Doc Martens has severed ties with the offending ad agency, but they did approve the ad campaign in the first place. It is thoroughly ironic that Kurt Cobain wore Chuck Taylors, to boot. Boot...heh.
AND we could move on from D.C. and crash some other blogger parties! Join forces! Yeah!
9 comments:
"I think our sheer numbers and alcohol-imbibing capacity would conceivably shut down any drinking establishment this side of the Mississippi."
In any normal city, for sure, but this IS New Orleans...
Well, EXACTLY. It wouldn't have much effect here. That's why we need to do it in places where it will have an effect, such as our nation's capital.
If we do it here, however, we are giving a maaaajor boost to the local economy...and then making sure it goes up in flames as it goes down our gullets. The power should only be unleashed locally against offending drinking establishments.
I think it would be much less dangerous than you think, the deciding factor being in intent. Now, if everyone shows up with their drinking shoes on and goes hard on Knob Creek and in and out of jazz and tired, then, yeah, it'll be a throw down.
But this group of folks also likes to talk as much as drink, so if we do it happy hour style, we may not need the next two days off work.
But this kind of attitude can be weaponized, you'll get no argument from me. I'm just sayin' we do some trial runs, is all.
Hate to get all the way to DC and not have an exit strategy, is what I'm sayin'.
(And what in the world is an "offending" establishment?)
An offending establishment might be
-one than runs outta your favorite drink early on, or just doesn't bother to stock it
-one that insists on a dress code other than shirts and shoes
-one that treats you like you just don't belong and you don't even have a prayer, so don't even try (then again, any club that is gunning for you to join may not be the best thing, either)
Hey, fill in the blank. Think of the worst bar experiences you've ever had involving the proprietors and/or employees, and you have NOT been offensively drunk and outlandish.
The bar was in Ohio. The seemed to only stock that fancy beer, Red Dog, those alcoholic icees know as daiquiris, and jeagermister. The accepted greeting for patrons was, "Are YOU a parrot head?" The answer definitely was not supposed to be "what's a parrot head"...it was downhill from there. All I can say is thank God, I didn't fit in, and thank God the place closed at 2.
What's wrong with Red Dog? I can only afford "Da Dog" for the house beverage. (also drink it warm)
Let's see... offending bar scenario: there was a Lesbian club in the Mission District of S.F. back in the '80s, and when I wasn't out by myself (the girl spent her evenings alone in North Beach), I'd be hanging with the Lesbians in my androgyne persona.
One evening the girls and I went for a drink, and the bouncer gave me lip until a friend stared her down, and then the bar wench wouldn't serve me. My best friend Tonisa pulled her across the bar, and promptly informed her that I was an Honorary Lesbian and was more "XY" than half or the patrons in the room. My whisky tonic was produced in a heartbeat. We stayed for two drinks and left.
I refused to never darken their door again, and from then on we went to Mauds, a very famous women's in the Haight. They always treated me nice there (Unless I whooped up on someone on the pool table).
See, everyone's got an offending bar somewhere in their deep, dark pasts.
Mine was some joint that gave me an extra hard time, even though I had just turned twenty-one. They made a HUGE show of trying to look past the massive, neon UNDER 21 hologram that my license's state of origin had embedded in it over all my vital statistics. Once my friends and I managed to get over that hurdle, though, the place itself was duller than dull. There was NO reason for such offensive velvet rope treatment that WE could see, so we left.
Oh, that kind of offending establishment. Knock on wood, here, but I have rarely darkened the door of any watering hole that I wouldn't go back to in a heartbeat. Guess I've been lucky.
The bar I least enjoy drinking in is a real townie establishment back in Athens. The only reason to drink at this place it so you can look 'cool' for the other townies. I usually had to go when I was out on the town with hipster friends. It always sucked because once we got there, no one ever wanted to leave, so they could look really cool to their hipster freinds who showed up later. I can't stand that. But who can argue with $1.00 PBR?
I have been in attendance to several instances where the bar I was in did run out of favorite beverages (like, beer), but this was not the fault of the bar itself.
It was the fault of a drinking attitude, weaponized.
You are one lucky drinkin' stiff.
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