I was out last night with Oats and his buddy Chest, and on our way home after last call, we passed Oats' usual bar that was still packed when it should have been closed. We had to investigate. Turns out everyone in there had tuxedos and evening gowns (do people still say that outside of Ms America?) on, and the bar was still liberally pouring drinks. One very gay man was telling Chest and myself that everyone in there came from an Opera event, and he proceeded to tell us how much everyone in the room made, whether we cared to know or not. "That guy gets 2 grand a night, he makes 3 . . ." I asked who in there made the most, and he motioned to a really heavy woman, who was hilariously bending over at the time, and he told me that she gets 7 grand a performance. I said, "So, I guess that's because it's not over until the fat lady sings, right?" He didn't find it all that funny, but Chest did, so it was worth saying as far as I'm concerned.
Then we were talking to a young lady who manages one of the singers in the room she motioned to who looks like Venessa Williams, who I guess is on the billboards for the Opera house. Manager chick was one of those gals who's snotty and elitist but doesn't even realize it, and it's not even in a mean way, so you can't really hate her. She said that she grew up in the Chicago burbs but was quick to point out that this is the first time she has been back because now she's a New Yorker - one of those people who thinks New York is like an island, like Kurt Russel in "Escape from New York," and everyone living anywhere else must be some kind of mouth breather just drooling on himself and watching "Hee Haw." I told her which burb I grew up in, and she said, "Oh, that's way out there." I politely pointed out that it's the same distance from Chicago only west instead of north. She only knew the North Shore suburbs where all the rich people live, so she kind of had that snooty mentality before becoming such a big deal New Yorker. I just feel bad for her parents who want to see her, but she won't come back home unless she absolutely has to because Vanessa Billboard has a performance that weekend. When she asked what I did for a living, I didn't want to tell her my real job because I didn't like her, and when I don't like people, I lie to them. So, I let her know that Chest and I were "consultants." This seemed to interest her, but I just shifted the conversation back to how much the see donkey* in the corner makes a night.
Anyway, I have to get going because I have awesome seats for UFC in my hometown of Chicago, a city that I love like I love my family and my girlfriend and beer. Toodles.
*This is a term that Oats uses for fat women. It's mean and doesn't make much sense because donkeys don't swim and aren't always fat, but tell me it's not funny to say? I give it a week until Shife starts saying it, driving his wife nuts.