Singers, drinkers, dancers, liars

Oh sweet mercy…tonight was insane. Maybe I’m just getting old, or maybe I’m a homebody, but all this burning the midnight oil is for the birds.

My adventure tonight started in Franklin simply enough. I went to the Franklin Mercantile to see The Class of 98 and Jonzetta. I was very impressed with Jonzetta, who came highly recommended from one Ryan Rado. The kid knows his stuff. Class of 98 I know already, and they put on a good show, if not a little sloppy. It could have been my position from the far side of the room out of the way of the amps that kept me from getting the full experience. What can I say? I’m a lazy bum when it comes to watching shows.

So anyway, we get done with the show, and head across the street to Ben and Jerry’s for ice cream. All in all a pretty tame, normal evening for me at this point. THEN someone suggests going to Sam’s, AAALLLL the way in Hillsboro Village. What they hey? I thought. I’ll grabba Coke and spend some time with some buddies I rarely get to see.

Sam’s is hoppin’, and we staked out the whole back end of the restaurant, filling up a total of three booths and another couple of tables. I ordered the aforementioned Coke and settled in to talk. Anne Marie thrilled the karaoke crowd out front with her rendition of “Since You’ve Been Gone.” These guys at a table in the main bar couldn’t keep their eyes off her. That girl is the queen of karaoke, I tell you. Later, I started getting the socially inept feeling, which I rarely get. So I decided to order my favorite, a Jaeger Bomb, to loosen up a little after a hard week of work. Things got a little more fun after that. So at this point I’m thinking, as soon as this wears off, I’m going to head to the house. It is, after all, approaching 1 a.m.

Then Ben announces that he’s going to a honky tonk downtown to meet a friend. Colby and Nick are going, plastered as can be, and I end up with Nick in my car because he’s in no state to drive himself. What can I say, I feel responsible for people. We get downtown and hit a bar on Broadway where they are playing some great Southern rock and some classics, with a hot singer to top it all off. I go in for my second Bomb with Michelle. I order, we chug, the two Army-type guys behind us are impressed. They end up buying us another round, but I have to refuse because I’ve got keys. I have given myself about two hours in between drinks, and I know my limit. A third one would have been disastrous to my driving ability. I felt really bad because the guys were being nice, but one of the guys told me he understood, and applauded me for keeping my head. It’s nice to get a little appreciation when you’re trying to do the right thing.

We’re enjoying the music, then Colby hollers something about moving up the street to a karaoke bar. Argh. The music where we were was great, there was room to dance and it was a good atmosphere, so I wasn’t all that jazzed to leave. We hike to Printer’s Alley, Nick stumbling along behind making drunk calls to some girl, and Colby being Colby, leading the way. We get to Lonnie’s and step inside. Ugh. Completely different atmosphere. First, it’s this tiny hole in the wall jammed with people, low ceilings and all, and hotter than…well, let’s just say it involves rodents in a wool sock. And the place is full of frat boys. Usually I don’t have any problem with them in small doses, but the bar was crawling with them, all doing bad karaoke. I mean really bad. Nick put in a request to sing “Every Rose Has Its Thorn,” but they announced last call before he could sing it. Too bad. He would have blown the frat boys away.

We ended the night at Coco’s with all the crazies, like all bar-hopping nights should end. I ran into a few people I know, including this one kid who lies like an unmade bed. He told me how he was playing bass for Shakira, and a Tooth ‘n’ Nail Band, and that he would soon be part owner of Bar23. Um, considering he’s not even old enough to drink, I hardly think the Bar23 thing is possible. The band he claims to play with isn’t on Tooth ‘n’ Nail, and he isn’t even listed as a band member (I checked out their Web site.) Nick realized that he was lying straight off, and still in a semi-drunk state, starts rambling about how the kid was a pathological liar. I was surprised that he was so astute. Sharp, that Nick guy. I took him to his car shortly after that, since he was losing drunk, and moving on to lethargic and tired. I drove home to Franklin, where it all began, just in time for 4 a.m.

Now I’m here drinking some water with two Aleve, getting ready for bed. I don’t think I’ll be doing that again any time soon, even thought it was a lot of fun. Like I said, I’m getting too old for this.


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