It was a teeny bit like being in a David Lynch movie. Complete with a dwarf.

No, I'm not joking. There was a man of short stature who was drunk and wanted to dance/touch EVERYONE. He would just walk up to people on the dance floor and start dancing with them and putting his hands on them. [livejournal.com profile] minim_calibre very smoothly dodged him when he approached. He targeted the StuntHusband, the VERY TALL bouncer appeared out of nowhere, leaned over the man, said "I TOLD YOU NO", and escorted him out of the club. (Me, I was at our table, sipping my absinthe and boggling.)

Later that evening, a very inebriated, stereotypical-to-the-point-of-cliché suburban middle-management guy (paunchy, balding, wearing a white button-up shirt and - I think - khakis) came over, complimented StuntHusband on his zoot suit (which WAS very nice) and then started flirting with him. Clumsily. Playing with the tassel on his fez, trying to touch his face, that sort of thing. StuntHusband did the very polite icy dodge, and then the drunk guy started flirting with ME. Put his arm around me, tried to kiss me on the cheek, that sort of thing. I too did the polite icy dodge, and the guy then stumbled away.

(Someone on Twitter suggested that maybe he wanted a threeome. Which caused StuntHusband and I to shudder, look at each other, and then shudder some more.

Otherwise, the night was fun. Lots of dancing (including to "Bloodletting" and "Tear You Apart"), and the food at Night Kitchen was delicious as always. But wow, parts of the evening were kind of surreal. I hope I can convince [livejournal.com profile] minim_calibre to join us again; it's not always like that, I swear!

From: [identity profile] icebluenothing.livejournal.com


..... I have "Sex Dwarf" stuck in my head now. I think this might make me a bad person.

From: [identity profile] brockulfsen.livejournal.com


I'm glad I'm not the only one who's Author thinks (s)he's writing a surrealism comedic novel.

From: [identity profile] sistawendy.livejournal.com


I always seem to miss the most interesting nights. This time, though, I'm not sure I mind.

See you this coming Friday?

From: [identity profile] moonxpearl.livejournal.com


EEEWW!!!!! You and your husband got hit on by George Costanza! Double-EEW!!!

From: [identity profile] aka-paloma.livejournal.com


Someone on Twitter suggested that maybe he wanted a threeome. Which caused StuntHusband and I to shudder, look at each other, and then shudder some more.

Ha ha! That was me. I hope I didn't give you or StuntHusband nightmares. ;)

From: [identity profile] ex-fashioni.livejournal.com


Dooood. One of these days I wanna go too. (If only for Night Kitchen, because you Have Raved about their food.)

From: [identity profile] silversaffyre.livejournal.com


"I got the ways and means, to New Orleans, I'm going down by the river where it's warm and green. I'm going to have a drink, and walk around, I've got a lot to think about, oh yeah...."

And boy do I. Dwarf Stars, snark.

From: [identity profile] snowcoma.livejournal.com

De-lurking with a happy, GCS-related story!


*waves* I'm Grace, and I already semi-de-lurked by saying hello on the Edward Cat post (he's doing wonderfully, and is improving my mother's daily life in impressive amounts). While I'm still horribly shy on the internet, it has occurred to me how silly it is to keep reading your journal in silence when I already know that you're very sweet to newcomers.

I was originally going to share the story of how being a goth and The Power Of The Internet reunited me with my twenty-years-estranged father, but it ended up less a comment and more a novella, so I snipped it (I will gladly share it if/when you are curious or need cheering up).

Suffice it to say that I've been back in contact with my father for nearly three years, and he's very supportive of his bizarre, black-clad daughter. We talk for hours by phone, and while most of that is about our lives (and our cats, for some reason) he also mentions anything spooky-related he's seen recently, and asks smart questions about being goth.

I can tell him a whole lot about what goth means to me (finding beauty and joy in dark things, wearing lovely clothes regardless of current trends, expressing the full range of human emotion via music, and eyeliner. Lots and lots of eyeliner); but I'm just one individual in a wonderfully varied subculture. When I tried to explain it in broader terms, I was at a bit of a loss, because I'm not your standard goth (who is, really?); I didn't want to leave him with the impression that we all wear solid black and have a deep and abiding love for zombie movies, cheesy music, and birdwatching.

I had an "Aha!" moment two months ago, and recommended Gothic Charm School to him as a way to better understand Goth with a capital 'G'. He bought it, and called me up the next week to tell me he was enjoying it, and to ask more smart questions about me and my style.

For the record, hearing a sixty-year-old man say "rivethead" in a pleasant tone is both hilarious and heart-warming. Thank you for that.
.

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