Night out at home
I'm am not a cold, heartless robot, made of steel and devoid of all emotion. That is the reason I was home for Christmas. At my parents' house. Well, that and the emotionally stressful situation of dealing with relatives I hadn't seen in years. And trust me, it was emotionally terrible.
So, following the emotionally terrible afternoon, my sister said she had made plans with her friend, Devin (that is most definitely not his name, but he was trashed and said he wanted to be referred to as such, so I'm just fulfilling his wishes). Devin was home for the holidays as well, and he's from Kewanee. Those of you not familiar with Kewanee would be interested to know that it is both the home of Good's Furniture, the only furniture store to use an extremely bland adjective in its title, and it is the hog capital of the word. Other than that, there is not too much of note.
We got over to Devin's place around 7:30 and my sister and I needed some dinner, so we got some. When we got back was when the drinking started. Shortly after my second beer, Steve Smith showed up (he wanted to be referred to as such also).
So we finished most of the beer that we had, and then decided it was time to head out and brave being around the locals of Kewanee. The first bar we went to was absolutely packed and there was a shitty band playing. While we were waiting, someone (I think my sister) noted that most of the people there looked like college kids. Not being too far removed from college I was slightly offended, but it passed when I couldn't get a beer fast enough. So we moved on from that bar to the next.
Now, to revisit a story from this summer. The last (and only other) time I was out in Kewanee with my sister and Devin a couple of their other friends had also shown up. One friend in particular got very drunk, and he was also trying to network for his up-and-coming button monopoly. At one point someone made him drop his drink, and a fight nearly ensued. I tried to help the situation, and was insulted, so then I started talking to the redneck inbred local who apparently wanted to fight me as well. Luckily I didn't have to get my ass beat. Also, luckily, the friend who nearly got in a fight was not present this time, thus almost definitely insuring a more low-key night.
Back to the story. Kewanee is not that big, so there aren't that many young people around. The first bar we went to had a surprising number of people around my age there. However, the second bar did not. However, at one point Steve Smith met a girl whom he had decided would be his wife. (Sidenote: not a whole lot happened at the bar, except for my sister spilling her drink for absolutely no reason (she was also driving home).)
Steve Smith was not happy when his future wife decided to leave with her friends (just to clear up, Steve Smith is not from Kewanee) and go to the first bar we were at and subsequently left. We stayed at our bar for a while, until he could take it no more and needed to go in search of his future wife. So we headed back to the first bar.
Oddly, we saw 4 cops in the alley between bars, but none of them stopped us for ID's or public drunkenness or anything. We walked back into the first bar, Steve Smith made a pass to look for his wife, I tried to get a beer, Devin and my sister just stood and waited I guess.
Unfortunately, Steve Smith didn't see his future wife. So then we headed back to the second bar. It should be pointed out that Steve Smith had about half of a red bull and vodka (red bull and something at least) left when we went back to search for his wife. We got back and his drink was still there on the bar, so he picked it back up and kept drinking.
We finally decided to end the night and go in search of pancakes. We didn't have to look far, because I believe there was only one place open in Kewanee after midnight. And let's just say this place isn't the cleanest place you've ever been to. I'm pretty sure it switched management a few years ago (at least once) when it was deemed unsanitary by the Health Department. Well, anyways, the breakfast was awesome, our waittress was creepy, but I didn't get my bacon.
We all finished (my sister didn't eat) and who should walk in, but the future Mrs. Steve Smith. He mentioned something to her about going to the bar she was at but he didn't see her. Then she went to sit down with the people she came with, and we walked outside.
Steve Smith got in the car and decided he should get his wife's number. So he walked back inside to get it from her. We could see through the window as he looked for her table, appeared to find it, turned around, got out his cell phone, and then came back to the car. Apparently he saw the two dudes she was with and decided that he couldn't forgive her for that, and therefore she is no longer the future Mrs. Steve Smith.
So it was a pretty fun, surprisingly pancake-filled night, and fortunately (for everyone probably) there were no fights. I don't plan on making a habit of going back though.
So, following the emotionally terrible afternoon, my sister said she had made plans with her friend, Devin (that is most definitely not his name, but he was trashed and said he wanted to be referred to as such, so I'm just fulfilling his wishes). Devin was home for the holidays as well, and he's from Kewanee. Those of you not familiar with Kewanee would be interested to know that it is both the home of Good's Furniture, the only furniture store to use an extremely bland adjective in its title, and it is the hog capital of the word. Other than that, there is not too much of note.
We got over to Devin's place around 7:30 and my sister and I needed some dinner, so we got some. When we got back was when the drinking started. Shortly after my second beer, Steve Smith showed up (he wanted to be referred to as such also).
So we finished most of the beer that we had, and then decided it was time to head out and brave being around the locals of Kewanee. The first bar we went to was absolutely packed and there was a shitty band playing. While we were waiting, someone (I think my sister) noted that most of the people there looked like college kids. Not being too far removed from college I was slightly offended, but it passed when I couldn't get a beer fast enough. So we moved on from that bar to the next.
Now, to revisit a story from this summer. The last (and only other) time I was out in Kewanee with my sister and Devin a couple of their other friends had also shown up. One friend in particular got very drunk, and he was also trying to network for his up-and-coming button monopoly. At one point someone made him drop his drink, and a fight nearly ensued. I tried to help the situation, and was insulted, so then I started talking to the redneck inbred local who apparently wanted to fight me as well. Luckily I didn't have to get my ass beat. Also, luckily, the friend who nearly got in a fight was not present this time, thus almost definitely insuring a more low-key night.
Back to the story. Kewanee is not that big, so there aren't that many young people around. The first bar we went to had a surprising number of people around my age there. However, the second bar did not. However, at one point Steve Smith met a girl whom he had decided would be his wife. (Sidenote: not a whole lot happened at the bar, except for my sister spilling her drink for absolutely no reason (she was also driving home).)
Steve Smith was not happy when his future wife decided to leave with her friends (just to clear up, Steve Smith is not from Kewanee) and go to the first bar we were at and subsequently left. We stayed at our bar for a while, until he could take it no more and needed to go in search of his future wife. So we headed back to the first bar.
Oddly, we saw 4 cops in the alley between bars, but none of them stopped us for ID's or public drunkenness or anything. We walked back into the first bar, Steve Smith made a pass to look for his wife, I tried to get a beer, Devin and my sister just stood and waited I guess.
Unfortunately, Steve Smith didn't see his future wife. So then we headed back to the second bar. It should be pointed out that Steve Smith had about half of a red bull and vodka (red bull and something at least) left when we went back to search for his wife. We got back and his drink was still there on the bar, so he picked it back up and kept drinking.
We finally decided to end the night and go in search of pancakes. We didn't have to look far, because I believe there was only one place open in Kewanee after midnight. And let's just say this place isn't the cleanest place you've ever been to. I'm pretty sure it switched management a few years ago (at least once) when it was deemed unsanitary by the Health Department. Well, anyways, the breakfast was awesome, our waittress was creepy, but I didn't get my bacon.
We all finished (my sister didn't eat) and who should walk in, but the future Mrs. Steve Smith. He mentioned something to her about going to the bar she was at but he didn't see her. Then she went to sit down with the people she came with, and we walked outside.
Steve Smith got in the car and decided he should get his wife's number. So he walked back inside to get it from her. We could see through the window as he looked for her table, appeared to find it, turned around, got out his cell phone, and then came back to the car. Apparently he saw the two dudes she was with and decided that he couldn't forgive her for that, and therefore she is no longer the future Mrs. Steve Smith.
So it was a pretty fun, surprisingly pancake-filled night, and fortunately (for everyone probably) there were no fights. I don't plan on making a habit of going back though.
posted by Jtrouble at 7:52 AM
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