I wanna take you to the GAY BAR!

Fucking awesome weekend. Randomly, I decided to go down to Prague and hang out with some fellow alumni of my TEFL course. Friday night we went to a gay bar called Friends, and got royally sauced. I spent all night chatting with sweet lonely boys, and commiserating with them about The Bastards That Done Us Wrong. The whole bar was full of Gay Men and The Women Who Love Them, which would be me, actually. I know it's a cliche and all, but seriously, I love homosexuals. I am such a fag hag, or I would be if I hung out there more often. I mean, yeah, their lifestyle is royally fucked up and destructive and all, but the same could be said for pretty much all the people I hang out with, and to some extent about me, too. My friends all seem kind of lost, like they know there's more to life than this shit, but they don't know where to find it, or even how to look. My mom told me that she and my dad were watching Sex and the City (I know!), and one of the characters turned to the others and said, "Well dammit, how are we supposed to know how to act? There should be a book or something that tells us what to do!" And my parents looked at each other all, well, there kind of is, honey, but you're not going to listen if we tell you....

Anyway, funny thing happened later that night (the gay bar night). I had sat down on a couch in a corner, and, taking a page out of wavelet's book, was on the verge of falling asleep. At that point, I realized I was minus one sweater. Stood up groggily, stumbled around the club looking for it. Hmm, we're in a different room of the bar now...I know where I left it, I just need to find the right room...

R: Hey, I can't find my sweater...it was on that railing in the other room, y'know?
D(a friend): The railing was at the other bar, kiddo.
R: Wait...what other bar?
D: Dude, we're at a different bar now. See, look at all the straight men.

Yeah, apparently we had totally left the gay bar, walked a long way through the cold, and entered another bar. And I missed all of this. We could have warped there on a spaceship for all the memory I have of it. Tequila is bad, kids.

Strange thing is, I went back on Sunday night to see if maybe they had my sweater at the first bar, and...there was no sign of it. It wasn't just closed, it was like it had never been there at all. Maybe it's just on weekends, or maybe...[cue dee-dee-dee-dee music] it was never really there at all! Which would suck, because I want to go back there. Probably the next time I go, assuming it's not actually in a parallel dimension, I'll see some slender young man making my sweater look a lot sexier than I ever did. Sigh.