Did My Words Not Come Out Right?

Here is a picture of a building in Davenport. I just liked the look of it.

Today was nice and warm and mellow. The girls were supposed to go to their dad's house, but they stayed with me until a little after nine. It was fine. I got to catch up on all the teen drama and tried to keep straight which friends they were on the ins and the outs with and then my head exploded.

This weekend was also on the mellow side. I caught up on sleep and got some cleaning done finally. I went out for a few hours both nights. On Friday we went to the Foxhead because our friend Brad was tending bar. Don't get me wrong, there were plenty of people there who I loved and I had a great time. It's just that there always tend to be certain uptight pretentious grad students who are WAY too cool for school, who make me want to be even more obnoxious than usual. Mostly though, I had a great time and spent all my energy on my friends in the bar and some drunk texting to people outside of the bar and it was great.

On Saturday I met my friend K. and her boyfriend A. at the Dublin. It was one of those weird nights there where there weren't very many regulars. It just meant that we had to give Scooter the bartender more of a hard time. I asked him to make me a girly shot and he told me I didn't really want one (which is what I predicted he would say) and then when I assured him I did, he said he would surprise me and K. with one and made us a really good and girly pineapple upside down cake shot. My friend K. said he would be into it and make us something good because he likes to mix drinks, so she got to be right too.

We talked to him about Rock of Love 2, because he's surprisingly really into that show. Then, not more than a half hour later, someone called down and told Scooter that Brett Michaels' tour bus was in front of the bar. I told him I'd go check it out. He asked me if I'd knock on the door of the bus and I said, "Duh. Of course". So, I went outside and knocked on the door of the bus. An old guy who looked like he could be from Keokuk, Iowa opened the door.

"Hi. Um, what's this bus for?" I asked.

"It's a charter bus," he responded, only slightly annoyed. I knew better than to ask straight out if it was Brett Michaels tour bus because it was looking less and less likely to be true and I doubted he had even heard of Poison.

"Okay, but what's it for?"

"It's for a bachelorette party," he said and I thanked him. I knew he wasn't lying to try to get rid of me either, since I didn't see even one bandana or cowboy hat on that bus.