so i spent this past weekend in salt lake city -- a city too bland to hate, but just bland enough to convince yourself there is no god. funny how lots of things convince me of the absence of god.
there was plenty of basketball. BC and Gonzaga emerged from the weekend headed to the sweet sixteen. adam morrison and his mustache -- monikered "mitch" by my beloved brother -- are silky smooth operators. i'd love to see them advance. and georgetown of course too, after making the big ten look like, i don't know, the small ten or something. i don't know 'tens'.
the big event of the weekend was our foray into SLC bardom. a recap, touching on all the highs and lows:
the people in the bar were half goth, half ugly.
a weirdo dressed in full leprechaun regalia – he smelled.
i went to get drinks at the bar and some woman gave me a pat down – apparently thinking she lost her contact lens UP THE INSIDE OF MY JEANS.
it was karaoke night. oh those crazy irish-goths. they sang songs only from the 90’s. not good ones, either. mother by danzig was WAY too popular. it’s still 1992 in SLC.
mullets.
a confirmed weirdo named landon befriended us – or forced his way into our booth and sat RIGHT NEXT TO ME and used my cell phone and egregiously hit on my sister. did i mention he sat RIGHT UP AGAINST ME?
i whispered over and over to my sister, “i’m uncomfortable!”
landon sang nothing but slow love ballads.
he borrowed my phone and called some weird number. falklands, i think.
there was a very sad engagement party at the bar. a girl, her sister, and her mother. or perhaps it wasn’t an engagement party, but just a sad party. the girl pointed at me – she wasn’t laughing you jerks – a lot. perhaps she was trying to get her sister’s boyfriend to stab me. he was busy looking depressed.
engaged girl and sister sang hollaback. and by sing i mean SCREECHED. and by holla back i mean HOLY LORD THEY SCREECHED.
landon would not leave us alone. when he asked for a karaoke suggestion my brother said, “two words: dancing queen.” free-loader worked at marriott, he said, but would not give us a discount. LIES.
the siblings wells wanted to have a moment to ourselves. we politely asked landon to leave. he told us a story about his cell phone having no charger. my brother grabbed my cell and put it in his pocket. landon would not leave.
we told landon the siblings wells had something to discuss amongst ourselves only. he finally got the hint. as the hurt puppy made his way from our table to the bar, he told us his uncle sang the song currently being butchered to death: american pie.
the siblings wells had a shot of vodka and pledged our love for one another. we shook our heads at don mclean’s nephew – yeah, right.
the ugly goths, the 90’s music, the SCREECHING, the weird guy abandoned at the bar by his ‘friends’ who SAT BASICALLY ON TOP OF ME –
it truly was the day the music died. and part of our souls.
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