But, I have a few updates in the ridiculous and random life of Robin that were too awesome to not blog about.
First of all, two days ago (Friday) I moved into Hope College's campus to start my new job as a Tutor Advisor for the TRiO Upward Bound program. I'm graduated, yet I'm back in freshman dorms. Go figure. This week is orientation and the high schoolers move in the dorms with us in a week.
After orientation was done yesterday, I called up some high school friends, Jessica and Krystal, to go out. Though I'm (sort of) from Holland, I didn't really have a clue what to do on a Saturday night. We decided to go to the Holland Brewery and then go to the S Club.
We get to the Brewery and sit waaaay in the back, isolated from the rest of the restaurant/bar. I ordered the most disgusting beer ever (Sun Dog?), only to ask for a refund from our waitress. She wasn't too happy. We sipped our drinks that ranged from decent to downright awful while we did what most young people do at a bar - play MASH. Jessica's wedding is going to include her husband dancing the Single Ladies dance down the aisle in a unitard. The tagline of the wedding will be "He liked it, so he put a ring on it."
Anyway, besides our reminiscence of elementary school girl games, Holland Brewery was pretty boring, until Jessica came out giggling from the women's bathroom. Apparently the Holland Brewery owns a massage toilet. I went into the handicapped stall and found it in all its glory. I sat on heated seat of The Toilet, which shall be referred to as a proper noun from now on. If you look closely at the picture on the left, which is an accurate picture of The Toilet, I clicked that middle button, which has a picture of a butt and water spurting into it. Yes, The Toilet has a butt washing button. I got nervous and stood up during this washing, and The Toilet spewed water everywhere out of the stall, like a 5 year old boy peeing with no aim. I ran out of the stall as soon as I could, so I wouldn't be identified. This plan failed, as I bumped into an old high school friend who was there for her bachelorette party (why is everyone getting married so young??).
After The Toilet fiasco, we ran in the rain to Jess's car and sloshed our way to the S Club. It was dead. There were maybe 25 people at almost 11 o'clock. But we had paid to get in, so we were going to stay and sit awkwardly as we stared at the empty dance floor. We ordered some delicious margaritas, and mid-margarita, "Markee" slammed her purse down next to Jessica and said "watch this for me, babes." We looked at each other... who was this chick? No one knew her. Markee drunkenly stumbled onto the dance floor and started to dance. She came back and sat down at our table, grabbed Krystal's margarita and took a sip. "This is disgusting!" she giggled. We just sat there in awe as this random drunk girl stole Krystal's drink. She started to chat with us, we found out her name was Markee, and she told us her life story of how her sister and ex-boyfriend are here and flirting with each other and this is making her upset.
Jessica then wanted to find out if S Club is always this dead on Saturday nights.
"Do you come here often?" Jessica said, as she knocked over her drink, spilling her water all over the table and her pants.
Stop.
I'm dying with laughter at this point. It totally looked like Jessica was trying to pick up this drunk girl with a line "do you come here often", felt nervous, and spilled her drink as she was trying to impress her. This was most definitely not the case, but is hilarious nonetheless. So hilarious, that Krystal and I repeated this line to her about 15 times throughout the night, and I added it to my favorite quotes on facebook.
Miss drunky pants told us how much she loved us, and decided that we were much better friends than her sister and ex-boyfriend. So much, that she decided to go punch her ex in the back of the head. I laughed. Inappropriate, I know, but this night has just become so weird. She came back to the table, decided this was not enough, then ran back and slapped both of them in the face. This prompted the bouncers to kick her out. Sadly, because she was our only form of entertainment.
"Do you come here often?" Teeheehee. Ok, I promise, I won't bring it up anymore. It's probably not even that funny for people who weren't there.
The club started to fill up a bit more, so we requested a Lady Gaga song and start dancing in hopes that we would start a trend. Eventually, more people started joining us. Then, The Couple came. I think The Couple deserve to become a proper noun because they have equal amount of awkwardness/awesomeness as The Toilet did. The Couple was a couple, obviously -they were about mid-thirties and not the most attractive people I've ever encountered. The guy was wearing a tight leather t-shirt and a kilt. Yes, you read that right. The girl was wearing something not quite so crazy; fishnets and some see-through top. They brought their own ipods and started interpretive dancing to their own music on the dance floor.
If you don't like clubbing music, that's fine. If clubbing isn't your scene, that's fine too. And, God forbid, you want to wear leather tops and kilts and you are a man, by all means, go for it. But, why on earth would you go to a club if you were going to bring your own music and interpretive dance to it while everyone else is grinding to Akon?
I was certainly amused by The Couple. That is, until Mr. Ecstasy graced us with his presence. I thought The Couple's interpretive dancing was awkward, but Mr.Ecstasy's dance performance by far outshine their dancing. I call him Mr.Ecstasy because I would bet money that he was on some type of drugs, because I don't think it's humanly possible for people to act like that without some sort of substance affecting them. He also did some interpretive dancing, though to the club's music, not his own. He was also not an attractive fellow and was quite awkward looking. He was late-twenties to early-thirties, skinny, buck-toothed, and wore a cowboy hat. He jumped on the stage and started dancing. I write "dancing", but I don't know if his actions can be categorized as that. He moved like he had epilepsy. His favorite dance move was something I like to call, "the lawnmower". Imagine starting an old-school lawnmower by bending down pulling the string - that is the dance move he did at least 100 times. Everyone was laughing and pointing at him, but also cheering his awkwardness on. At one point, the dance floor cleared as he attempted to break dance / interpretive dance / epilepsy dance / lawn mower dance / miscellaneous.
And that, folks, was my night. It wasn't particularly a fun night, but the stories and weirdness made it amazing.
haha:)
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