The clouds are broken by slight rays of retardium or

Dead, Dead David Woke Up

Weekend seemed like a bust. Didn’t do anything save watch DVDs, play MVP

Baseball and read all of Saturday. Then the night rolled in and I received a call from Layla. After receiving bad directions I drove around Dallas for over an hour while she and her friends hung out at a biker bar called Duke’s in Addison. The bar was packed. Loads of drunken folks overcrowded the wooden balcony. Each touching and talking to one another like a chain reaction. It didn’t seem as though anyone minded the body to body confines as I approached from the parking lot, now spilling over into the Sam’s Club lot. I found a spot out near the loading dock for that very Sam’s Club.

The bar’s Dj was louder than the music. A whiter, less ‘with-it’ Grand Master

Flash on the mic dropping a mix of bump and grind hits from the past few years with the occasional country tune for those in cowboy hats.

We then migrated to another part of Addison that I don’t remember the name

of. The area was very upscale with a lot of twenty-something’s prancing around or held up by their boyfriend/girlfriend for the night. We limbered into a faux British pub with two rooms; one room for the drinkers who enjoyed the face to drunken face conversations of others at the bar or in the booth, and another for those who loved to be swooned by bad renditions of Cheap Trick songs. Our conversations lingered on the profound awfulness of the band and the drunken leers from the audience members who gyrated and clapped their hands off tempo. As soon as they transitioned from “Sweet Home Alabama” to an early 90’s rap medley including the drummer singing “Rappers Delight” we knew we had a problem. Only a band named ‘Strippers Lie’ could move from a racist song about the old south and slavery to old school hip hop without anyone, including them, realizing the hypocrisy. The only thing more interesting would be if they had gone from Screwdriver to N.W.A.

All this transpired with four poser white-boys playing with equipment worth

almost as much as their attire attempting to harmonize while a crowd unaware of their surroundings moved beneath them.

When I got home and pealed off my two-hour smoke and sweat lingered

clothing realizing that I had enjoyed myself. For one of the first times since I moved down here I did something impulsive and was out later than midnight. And I wasn’t tired at all. Adrenaline and nervousness kept me going. Well, that a gallons of water drank throughout the night.