Dancing on the Valentine 1


Dancing on the Valentine

Dancing on the Valentine

Jesse (Kaylie’s cousin) had asked me to attend a Depeche Mode cover night to benefit the Leukemia and Lymphoma society. It was only $10 and I wanted spend a night hanging out with Jesse in Seattle and possibly get some drinks. That being said this event was planned for us to go to for over a week. Each day I made sure to remind my wife that I was going out Friday night to Seattle and each day she said ‘oh crap, I forgot!’

On the night we where to head off to our Depeche Mode I again remind her and she again tells me she forgot. Not her fault I say, she has other things on her mind. That’s ok, I was there ready to remind her on every occasion that I was going out to Seattle and she, unfortunately, was not.

We started watching Percy Jackson and the Lightning thief (pretty good, i enjoyed seeing James Bond as half a horse). We had to leave our house by 7:30pm to comfortably catch the 8:10pm ferry over to at 7:39pm I ran downstairs to tell Jesse we better leave if we wanted any chance to make it. We dashed out the door in a blaze of glory and leaped into our flaming chariot that would whisk us away to out boat to Seattle.

Depeche Mode logo

Image via Wikipedia

We park at my work, which is roughly a half a mile from the ferry dock. At this point we realized we only have moments to spare. I kicked out my Flash costume while Jesse pulled our a Segue (because he’s lame and I’m awesome) and we where off. We barely made the ferry and Jesse beat me there. I’m not proud to say but I was hurting on that half mile run. Wheezing like a fat man and pain in my knees. My only saving grace was Jesse is almost (but not quite) as out of shape as I am.

After we caught our breath, stop sweating and panting like dogs in heat we got off the ferry at our arrival to Seattle we noticed something strange. Not like a cat barking or a chicken mating with a kangaroo strange, strange like a guy wear super tight jeans, a button up shirt, tie and a prom vest over the top of it (look very much not straight) with a girl in a black dress and high heel shoes that look pretty good, if you like a small waist, nice legs and good sized melons. We made note of this, chuckled to each other how he was her gay friend as they skipped off holding hands. We walked off the boat, looked at the ferry workers and whispered “I’m on a boat motha fucka, don’t you e’er forget.”

After that we started walking up to The Crocodile for the show, complaining the whole way about how our legs hurt. The walk up was relatively uneventful, which was sad. After an untold amount of minutes (untold because we did not keep track) we arrived, in style, and bought our tickets for a boss amount of $10. Shortly after we arrived, and subsequently purchased a Pabst Blue Ribbon for $4, it was announced that the show was sold out. Awesome for us because we made it, sad luck for Jesse’s friend Tony who was supposed to meet us there.

We took up camp in the back in a trifecta of awkwardness. Where in the middle of the Bar/Smoke Door/Raffle Book tri-force that made for a lot of funny and interesting interactions with show goers. This involved skinny girls wearing skirts so short I could see their tush to fat guys dripping sweat on me. Speaking of fat sweaty guys, there was this one that passed by us to go out and smoke, and did so by putting his arm around me like he was going to bear hug me and softly saying “excuse me, bud.” Odd I thought. But not as odd as when 10 minutes later he was back, looked at me and dump half his drink on my shoe and said “oh, sorry about that bud, guess I’ve drank a little much.” Mind you this wasn’t a spill like it could have been an accident in any way, it was a ‘fuck you, I just poured $5 of my $10 drink on your shoe and you are not going to do shit about it’ kind of way.  Well, I have my brand new white DC’s on so of course this meant war. We battled like Scott Pilgrim and I collected his coins then continued to enjoy the show.

We used these coins to hear to the other bar, not the bar we where standing victorious next to but the one all the way across the venue. We swam through a sea of 80’s music fans, middle aged rockers and people who started listening to Depeche mode in their junior year or high school, which was 2008. We arrived at the a little worn from the trip but ready to get our drink on. We waiting for what seemed like only 5 or 10 minutes then got our chance to order. Jesse offered to buy the round and I’m not one to turn down a free drink so I let him do his thing. We decided to get a Irish Car Bomb and a Jager shot. Apparently they are not allowed to make Irish Car Bombs there so we had to do a Jager Bomb. So yes, we chased our shot of Jager with a Jager bomb. And it was awesome. Not as awesome as the $32 bill Jesse got for those drinks. $14 for a Jager Bomb…that’s nuts. We threw our coins at the bar wench and walked away a little upset over the price, but feeling good from the drinks.

This drink adventure must have taken a lot longer then we thought because we missed an entire band. Not even sure how that happened because we didn’t hear the band or anything, just sort of lived in our own little Chris and Jamie world there for a moment.

They where taking these pictures with Depeche Mode lyrics on chunks of card board. The idea was that you and your valentine pose for a picture with a lyric to put on their website for some reason. Oh, did I mention this was a VALENTINES show that you brought your SWEETHEART to. And Jesse brought me. I feel touched, like an altar boy. Now someone might tell you that it was more of a benefit show than a Valentines day show, and to that I say “shut up, this is my story.” Back to the picture…Jesse and I posed for one together because if we where there as dates dammit we where going big. Jesse picked out the lyric and he picked PAIN…which was oddly appropriate to our picture – him making a face of uncomfortable and me behind him, arm around him, face of satisfaction. Needless to say the ladies did not hit on us.

We did end up leaving that sausage fest (they where serving brautworst and hot dogs) to try and catch a ferry. This was a fools game. We where intoxicated and had to pee. This will never lead to a timely arrival anywhere. For the life of us we could not find a place with no cover charge to piss. We asked this Mexican looking dude with part of his eye brow shaved off where the cheapest free place to piss was. He pointed us to the Hard Rock cafe (which clearly had a no public restrooms sign on it) and a dumpster in an ally way. Naturally we pretended we where going to go to the bar at the Hard Rock and instead played swords in the bathroom. The rape-dumpster was not as alluring as one might think.

After our amazing set on the Hard Rock center stage (read: disgusting bathroom) we left on a journey onto the mean streets of Seattle. I want to point out that at no time did we see Phoenix Jones the Guardian of Seattle, and this upsets me. Though less like a superhero and more like a boss at one point Jesse did yell “BACK THE FUCK UP DEMARCUS!” at a bus, and this skinny black guy that ran by us turned around and looked confused. We made sure to tell him we didn’t mean him, cause you know I don’t want to get shot or anything. And no, that’s not a comment on him being black, it’s a comment on ‘the city’ so shut up.

We saw the hot girl and the “It’s not gay, it’s fashion” dude walking on the streets.  Odd that we would see them again.

Some mediocre looking girls (the kind that if you where REALLY drunk you might think about letting your friend sleep with them) walked by and started talking to us, to which we pretty much ignored them because I’m a married man and I don’t want your tired ass punany. And then I yelled at them for littering.

We met Seattle’s next great rap artist in the form of a toothless black homeless man that was asking us for an infection. He literally was speaking jiberish followed by the word infection. He then asked us for 30 cents to which Jesse told him “You should be asking for tree fiddy”. He didn’t get it.

Saw hot girl and gay vest dude again, compliment him on his outfit, hot girl thinks we are talking about her and says thank you. Respond with ‘We meant him you pretentious bitch!”

Two lesbians tried to get money from us to go to a hostel. Which we thought a hostel was like $100 or some shit but we found out that it’s a nice round even number of $27. $27? Really? You gonna try and hustle us for money by telling us the hostel is $27? Even if it is that’s a ridiculous number. Not $25 and not $30, but $27.

Then this fat black homeless dude asked for money RIGHT after we tell homeles lesbians no.

There was this asian chick with way to big boobs that tried a little to hard get us to enter a club. At this point of the night all I wanted was some food and a beer. Her club did not have food so it was not an option. Though the security guard was singing along to all the Britney songs.

We ended up at McCormicks and Scmits (sp?) during their happy hour and snagged a $3 half pound cheese burgers and $2 spinach dip and some beer. Best way to end the night before we head off to the ferry. The burger was absolutely divine.  Now if you know me you know I have allergies to red meat so this burger was a sacrifice to me on many levels. I want to tell you it was worth it and I will be doing it again. Soon.

We left, headed to the ferry and at the ferry dock we see see hot girl and gay vest dude yet again. I’d like to say it ended in an epic battle with swords and ninjas, but that would be a lie. It ended with us getting on the ferry and then going home.

We got home, Jesse went downstairs (of the house, not my pants) and did Jesse things. I did dishes, changed a diaper then passed out.

The next night I was BACK in Seattle. That will be my next blog, that I will hopefully have up tomorrow.

Until then, peace out home skillets.


Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

One thought on “Dancing on the Valentine