Sunday, February 27, 2005
What's cooler than being cool?
Ice Cold!!!
So last night involved a trip to that mecca of drunk undergrads, the Highdive. I spent the night hanging out with the Psych folks, and we started the evening off right with a hearty Hunter's Feast at Bayern Stube. Sweet sassy molassy, but that place has some yummy stuff. Although no matter how comfortable you are with your place in the food chain, you can't quite be completely sanguine about chowing down underneath the stuffed heads of the animals that comprise your meal. I had the roast boar, which I suppose I should have guessed would be pretty similar to pork. Sides included some delicious little potato croquettes and a pear with lingonberries that had somehow been dyed a radioactive green color not found in nature. With the planned evening of dancing in mind I managed to not stuff myself completely, so after an hour or so of rest back in Champaign I was ready to shake it like a Polaroid picture.
The Highdive was so tightly packed that I was relieved to see there weren't any flammable furnishings or pyrotechnically-inclined bands in residence. We danced for about three hours, from 11 to closing, and the grinding going on up on stage was amusing as always. I was especially amused by the girl that put her back to the wall while she danced and raised her leg up higher than Mike's head so she could wrap it around the back of her "dancing" companion. The only thing that really ruined the mood of watching wacky drunken hookups was the totally creepy guy that watched the girls up on stage like he was watching a show at a strip club. He was a big, burly guy who stood stock-still in the middle of the dancers, stared at the stage with his arms crossed, and didn't move or change expression for a good 45 minutes. He wasn't one of the usual creepy club guys that tries to grind on you while your back is turned; he was much much creepier. The look on his face said, "when I leave here I'm going to go find a hooker. And then I'm going to kill her." Ugh. Still kind of gives me the creeps thinking about it. Anyway, after closing some of the folks headed over to Lisa's for more fun with a bottle of vodka, but I was done for the night and took off for home, ears ringing, feet killing me, but having fulfilled my groove-getting-on quotient for the near future.
So last night involved a trip to that mecca of drunk undergrads, the Highdive. I spent the night hanging out with the Psych folks, and we started the evening off right with a hearty Hunter's Feast at Bayern Stube. Sweet sassy molassy, but that place has some yummy stuff. Although no matter how comfortable you are with your place in the food chain, you can't quite be completely sanguine about chowing down underneath the stuffed heads of the animals that comprise your meal. I had the roast boar, which I suppose I should have guessed would be pretty similar to pork. Sides included some delicious little potato croquettes and a pear with lingonberries that had somehow been dyed a radioactive green color not found in nature. With the planned evening of dancing in mind I managed to not stuff myself completely, so after an hour or so of rest back in Champaign I was ready to shake it like a Polaroid picture.
The Highdive was so tightly packed that I was relieved to see there weren't any flammable furnishings or pyrotechnically-inclined bands in residence. We danced for about three hours, from 11 to closing, and the grinding going on up on stage was amusing as always. I was especially amused by the girl that put her back to the wall while she danced and raised her leg up higher than Mike's head so she could wrap it around the back of her "dancing" companion. The only thing that really ruined the mood of watching wacky drunken hookups was the totally creepy guy that watched the girls up on stage like he was watching a show at a strip club. He was a big, burly guy who stood stock-still in the middle of the dancers, stared at the stage with his arms crossed, and didn't move or change expression for a good 45 minutes. He wasn't one of the usual creepy club guys that tries to grind on you while your back is turned; he was much much creepier. The look on his face said, "when I leave here I'm going to go find a hooker. And then I'm going to kill her." Ugh. Still kind of gives me the creeps thinking about it. Anyway, after closing some of the folks headed over to Lisa's for more fun with a bottle of vodka, but I was done for the night and took off for home, ears ringing, feet killing me, but having fulfilled my groove-getting-on quotient for the near future.
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