March 14: Pi Day

This one is kinda obvious, considering the several-standard-deviations-above-normal level of geek-i-tude in our house.  So, instead of posting a bunch of really geeky homage-to-Pi-Day things, I'm gonna take this one a different direction.  South.  Very, very far south.  And also north.  Very, very far north.  Let me take you to a typical night out in Anchorage, Alaska, surrounded by the dregs of society, who only know 'pi' as one of the building blocks of their food pyramid.  That's right--we're going to the very southern end of the geek-i-tude Bell curve in the northernmost state.  Brace yourself.

So first, a bit of background.  The players:

1. Janelle: Employee.  The new girl.  From Colorado Springs.  Thinks Bud Light is the only alcohol worth drinking.
2. Juan: Boyfriend of Janelle.  Pushing 40.  Father of two, from another woman.  PTSD sufferer, from his time in war.  Likes referencing the horrible things he's done to people and had done to him as a part of his time in the military.
3. Sam/Blackout Sam: Employee.  Angry at everything and everyone.  Likes referring to herself in the 3rd person.  Thinks alcohol is the only thing worth drinking.  Has gained a lot of weight in the past six months when she gave her boyfriend of four years an ultimatum and he skipped town.
4. Shelby: Employee.  Jealous of Sam's friendship with Janelle.  Divorced her husband while he was in Iraq for the new guy she's shacked up (a personal training client).
5. Julie:  Friend of Juan & Janelle (via boyfriend, Dave).  Whale with a bleached-blond pixie cut.  Hiccups when she drinks.  Attempts to scare herself in order to end her hiccuping.  Must've inhaled a significant amount of helium in order to be able to speak in the high-pitched, squeaky manner that she does.

The night begins at a local "classy" restaurant.  I walk in and am greeted with the statement, "We just got here from the wine drinking place.  We're drunk."  Within five minutes, Sam has tucked 3 empty glasses and a spoon into her purse.  Sam and Juan order beer flights, requesting, "whichever ones are like Bud Light."  I'm told in graphic detail about the chunk of flesh missing from Sam's finger after she attempted to make Juan's beer foam over (that whole bottle tapping thing) but left her finger between the bottles when doing so.  I'm also told about Janelle's dislike of people (all people), Juan's PTSD and shrapnel injuries (this is the first time I've met him), and warned that Blackout Sam and her baby will be joining us later.  The "baby" is a reference to Sam's weight gain that caused a patient to ask her if she was pregnant last week, and have no remorse for asking when informed otherwise.  There are many snarky comments made about the missing member of the trio, Shelby.  Off to a good start, and this was only dinner.

Next on the agenda is Al's.  "Dive Bar" is a status it aspires to reach someday, if it can clean up it's act.  The entire inside is diamond-plated.  Floor, ceiling, support columns, bar, etc.  Disco lights reflect off all the surfaces, blinding you as you try to make your way to a table.  The fog machine isn't making it any easier.  I have more teeth in my mouth than all five bartenders combined.  The go-to 'club' look is Carhartt shorts, white tube socks, Adidas rubber sandals, and a dirty white tank or tee.  It's four degrees out.  They want $5.50 for a Bud Light.

Farther into the hellhole, I hear music.  But the vocals are...not right.  Oh god, it's karaoke, and it's a bachelorette party.  Blackout Sam screams at the Filipino woman butchering Whitney Houston to stop making her ears bleed.  Then she makes me pinch her to see "if this is really real".  Shelby shows up and the catty remarks and false niceties begin.  I love watching the drama unfold.  Then Julie and Dave arrive.  We get to hear the story of how Julie's daughter "was supposed to be named Shelby, but when she came out [imagine graphic hand gestures and she illustrates the birth of her daughter], she had red hair, so I just HAD to name her Mackenzie!" four times.  Literally.  All catty remarks now focus on the whale in the pixie cut.  She tries to get me to sing Taylor Swift with her; I politely decline; Juan gets to take my place.  Blackout Sam screams that the terrible singing is bad for the baby, and someone better get her another beer.  Julie bursts into tears at a sudden realization that the friend she came here with left for a different bar without saying goodbye.  Much hugging and comforting ensue.  Janelle warns me about the Herpes pole, a stripper pole that is so nasty that simply passing near it will result in at least a few uncurable diseases.  Moments later the bachelorette party rushes to the dance floor to make use of the pole, and the comment is made that those who already have the diseases have nothing to worry about.

It's not even midnight and the dancing cougars, toothless men, screaming from Blackout Sam, tone deaf bachelorettes, and cattiness has me exhausted.  I need a shower.  A bleach shower.  Just another night out in Anchorage.

I couldn't bring myself to document too much of this night, because I didn't really want to remember a good portion of it.  However, since I wasn't drinking, Blackout Sarah couldn't save me from the memories.  I did get a couple videos though...watch at your own risk (but if you do, watch for some awesome dance moves).