Night Out and Lunging

After a rather eventful evening coming up with all the possible meanings of ‘lunging’ the giggles and laughter never seemed to cease only egging us on to continue an entertaining evening.

This was 100 nights rolled into one. A definite memory keepsake. A bonding of two girls that will last till the end of time.

We started at Left Bank with 3 very pink and watered down ladies cocktails each. The mixture somewhat inconsistent but forgiven since they were, after all, free. Amusingly an entire tree of mint growing from the ice in the last order was perhaps the last ditch attempt at decoration. A DJ in a white jacket and some variation of psychedelics shirt underneath, fallen victim to its 500th wash, a cheesy grin and the occasional over energetic gesture, rather similar to Carlton’s ‘moves’ from the American sitcom Fresh Prince of Belair, that followed the rhythm of whatever 80s number was playing. I swear I could hear his voice bellow out the melody every possible chorus moment , then grin, when I’m sure he forgot the words, and sway his head from side to side. Far too similar to Stevie Wonder. Except Stevie Wonder wasn’t doing it because he forgot the words. It was time to shuffle along to a new venue.

Where to go next? We dig up the torn out page from the Time Out magazine for the next ladies night venue but after staring at the options we fold it away and instead head to old faithful, Barastis, where the weather is still mild enough to spend outdoors and enjoy a festive crowd with a beach backdrop to resemble old memories of holidays and new places. This is really where the night began.

We are approached by a nervous little man stuttering a clumsy greeting in our direction. It’s just impossible to be rude or feel threatened by his rabbit caught in headlines look and as we say hi back and continue our conversation he remains in silence rather uncomfortably staring straight ahead but doesn’t seem to budge until a curious fella from LA (yes an American guy) comes to save him. Now this is a fascinating traveller who holds a decent conversation . Followed by a mind blowing discovery that he’s in fact a dating coach. What?! Yes you heard right. A true life ‘Hitch’ you’ve seem the movie right?

That’s about the time when the word ‘lunged’ gets used and I start and can’t stop laughing hysterically. This causes a rather mass hysteria and somehow we seem to have caught the attention of everyone around us and from there we seam to have a steady stream of people approaching us. Christina bumps into an old friend and we replay the story and the lunge debacle to him and he proceeds to literally lunge hand on hip, knee touching the ground, almost as if he was going to propose but repeatedly up and down, like a broken record. Not quite the type of lunge we were talking about but funny no less.

Christina spots a bean pole, kidding, he is really just a tall guy who is eyeing her out and turns out to be another source of entertainment which includes way too many hand gestures near his nether regions where he is sporting a bottle of kaluha. I was hoping my eyes would just roll back into the back of my head and stay there.

Next port of call is Rock Bottom the local meat market and origin of the bullfrog. That’s a drink, blue, and gives you smurf mouth. Here you get eyeballed like a juicy steak. Thank goodness music is loud and it’s easy to shuffle away in any direction. We ditch string bean after some questionable behavior and go all squeaky takkie on the dance floor.