This past weekend we took a trek to Cincinnati to see our friends, J & E, accompanied by our other friends J & C. We had been planning the trip since Christmas, so we were all looking forward to it. J & E now have two extremely cute children, so it was nice to see them and squeeze babies.
We got there Friday around 6-ish, and hung out that night playing the Wii. The boys stayed up until about 2:30 in the morning watching History channel stuff, as usual. Saturday was fun, as the grown up girls went with both the kiddies to a kid's birthday party at a place called "Pump It Up," that I had never heard of until this trip. For the uninitiated, "Pump It Up" is a place to have kids birthday parties (and other occasions) that has rooms full of inflatable obstacle courses, slides, and bounce houses. So we all took turns watching the baby and going into the inflatables with J & E's daughter. Then, after a certain period of time, everyone is moved into a party room, where pizza and birthday cake was served. In that room, C and I were watching the baby while E was supervising the two-year old, and as we were sitting there, we were talking to a woman who works for the same company as our friends. This other lady has twins and was very personable. On the drive home, we were telling E we met this nice lady, etc, and it turns out E knows this woman her children, and apparently the girl twin is a complete monster, has bit J & E's daughter, etc. E had big stories to tell about this. It was hilarious and very ironic.
Saturday night we had dinner reservations at Tropicana, which is a nice steak restaurant in Cincy that has a Spanish flair. Dinner was excellent, but the best part was the after dinner "show." It turns out that this fine eatery turns into a somewhat trashy nightclub after 11, and since dinner was long and leisurely, we were present for this transformation. Oh, the people who walked through the door. It was everything from Kentucky trashy (this restaurant is actually in Newport, Kentucky, across the river from Cincy), to horrible 80's retro wear, including day-glo orange go-go boots, to your typical nightclub skankiness. But the best was this woman who came in by herself, and proceeded to dance by herself for the better part of an hour. She was wearing cargo-y pants and a cleavage showing red top. From a distance, she looked "interesting." The guys were so fascinated that they kept walking over there to investigate, while under the guise of checking the sports score. While standing by the bar, they briefly talked to two women who were also watching "the show." In the women's words, the lady in red was "definitely [there] to party." In the words of B, our dinner companion, she was "a cougar" and "mildly psychotic." (Up close, she was about 15 years older than I had originally thought.) As we all left, she was hitting on a bartender by the door, clearly looking to score. (And he was considerably younger than she, so B had the cougar thing right.)
So, that was the upshot of our fun trip to the Nasty. Thanks to J & E for having us all stay over, and we can't wait to come back to hang out at another bar for the night while marveling that we were never that stupid or that skanky.
We got there Friday around 6-ish, and hung out that night playing the Wii. The boys stayed up until about 2:30 in the morning watching History channel stuff, as usual. Saturday was fun, as the grown up girls went with both the kiddies to a kid's birthday party at a place called "Pump It Up," that I had never heard of until this trip. For the uninitiated, "Pump It Up" is a place to have kids birthday parties (and other occasions) that has rooms full of inflatable obstacle courses, slides, and bounce houses. So we all took turns watching the baby and going into the inflatables with J & E's daughter. Then, after a certain period of time, everyone is moved into a party room, where pizza and birthday cake was served. In that room, C and I were watching the baby while E was supervising the two-year old, and as we were sitting there, we were talking to a woman who works for the same company as our friends. This other lady has twins and was very personable. On the drive home, we were telling E we met this nice lady, etc, and it turns out E knows this woman her children, and apparently the girl twin is a complete monster, has bit J & E's daughter, etc. E had big stories to tell about this. It was hilarious and very ironic.
Saturday night we had dinner reservations at Tropicana, which is a nice steak restaurant in Cincy that has a Spanish flair. Dinner was excellent, but the best part was the after dinner "show." It turns out that this fine eatery turns into a somewhat trashy nightclub after 11, and since dinner was long and leisurely, we were present for this transformation. Oh, the people who walked through the door. It was everything from Kentucky trashy (this restaurant is actually in Newport, Kentucky, across the river from Cincy), to horrible 80's retro wear, including day-glo orange go-go boots, to your typical nightclub skankiness. But the best was this woman who came in by herself, and proceeded to dance by herself for the better part of an hour. She was wearing cargo-y pants and a cleavage showing red top. From a distance, she looked "interesting." The guys were so fascinated that they kept walking over there to investigate, while under the guise of checking the sports score. While standing by the bar, they briefly talked to two women who were also watching "the show." In the women's words, the lady in red was "definitely [there] to party." In the words of B, our dinner companion, she was "a cougar" and "mildly psychotic." (Up close, she was about 15 years older than I had originally thought.) As we all left, she was hitting on a bartender by the door, clearly looking to score. (And he was considerably younger than she, so B had the cougar thing right.)
So, that was the upshot of our fun trip to the Nasty. Thanks to J & E for having us all stay over, and we can't wait to come back to hang out at another bar for the night while marveling that we were never that stupid or that skanky.
No comments:
Post a Comment