We finished the rest of the drinks we have to learn in Bartending School today; now, I just have to commit them to memory. That'll be fun...
The School let out early, so I decided to take advantage of the TransPass (unlimited use of public transportation within Philadelphia's city-limits) I have for the week and I spent the day sauntering around South Street, Chinatown, the Gallery, the Gayborhood, and Independence Mall, all of which, as many of you might know, are rather spread out. Septa in the suburbs is god-awful, but I could with public transportation in the city. Stand in any one spot for five to ten minutes and something is bound to come along, and, hey, it's the city, and we all know how much I love those... especially after being cooped up in my house for a week.
While sitting in Millenium Coffee, read nearly two-hundred or so pages of Kavalier and Clay. Dear god, Jill, you were right and then some. Once he's done with all of those flashbacks in the beginning, the book is impossible to put down. (I probably would have been glued to the flashbacks as well, but they were playing all sorts of techno remixes when I was going through that section and I was torn between keeping myself glued to the page and shaking my booty.)
Also, finally went back to Open Mike Night at The Point, where I bumped into the ever loveable Rob Seitz.
Oi, but they really do need to fix the lighting in there. While sitting by the door, I saw someone who I thought to be Mary Sharples on the other side of the room, so I went over to say hi...
... and it turned out to be a guy. This is not in any way meant to suggest that Mary looks rather mannish, because she indisputably does not...
... but, eh. There were several other look-a-likes over the course of the evening, but I decided not to tempt fate twice.
Oi, hopefully, the whole Lasik schtick ought to keep future problems of that sort to a minimum. To think, that, one week from now, I'll have 20/20 vision without glasses...
... that, or I'll be horribly blind and/or have a halo surrounding every source of light I see in the dark.
...
I'm making heavy use of these ellipses tonight.
At The Point, there wasn't really anything humorous at all tonight, but there was this one act that was rather intriguing. Everyone was allowed to do two songs instead of the usual one (regulars were given three, methinks), so for their first bit, these two guys did this very Philip Glass-like thing where one guy played gentle piano music in the background while the other guy spent five minutes describing, in excruciating detail ("I then took nine steps down my hallway. From that, you might assume that I averaged four and one-half steps per foot, but by assuming this you'd be mistaken. Actually, I allowed my left foot to drag quite a bit, and I only took three steps with my left foot and six steps with my right.") what went on during his morning in between him getting out of bed and brushing his teeth. Funny shit, actually.
Anyway, there second bit was them harmonizing in a duet and singing "Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania" over, and over, and over again. Again, quite amusing. After spending a few minutes on that, they paused, for just a moment so as to make one think they were over, and then began the second verse: "Ardmore, Pennsylvania".
There's a point to all this, I swear.
After doing that, they asked the audience if they had any other suggestions. Naturally, some schmuck yells out "King of Prussia!" and the two guys jump on it and give it a shot.
Only, "Bryn Mawr" and "Ardmore" only have two syllables and "King of Prussia" has twice as many. The two of them tried to give it a shot, but their rhythm refused to match up, but they just laughed it up and kept forcing it and pushing it, but eventually, it just died. The two shrugged, sheepishly, and sauntered out of the lime light and off the stage.
I'm presently stuffing four syllables where there's only room for two.
I'm calling it a night.