Cougar Hunting

Last night Evan and I decided to go cougar hunting on Main Street. It's a Tuesday night but whatever. So we head over to Melange, a basement "bistro wine bar". The place is dead, but they do have a DJ. We stay for a few drinks and try to break into a bachelorette party. Sidenote: Who has a bachelorette party on a Tuesday? So that doesn't go to well, and by not going to well, I mean the entire party leaves. We're guessing (trying to convince ourselves) that they were leaving anyways, so we leave too.

We try to head over to Live at Pj's but it, Cavern Club and Circus are all closed. The only bar that is open over there is 8 Ball. I'm in jeans and a buttondown, Evan is in a shirt and tie. We don't really fit in, but we do slam a couple of 1$ PBR's bottles. We've still only spent probably 2 minutes talking to girls. But we leave for Monkey Bar and sit at the bar. I'm now drunk. Evan makes his move on 2 girls in their mid twenty's at the end of the bar. We move down and learn a little bit about them. I spend 45 talking to this girl, realizing that she has a 3 year old son, and a DUI, and isn't drinking and lives in Jackson. She's a real winner. The other girl though had a BF. Now I'm really drunk. At some point she mentions Iowa. I say "Iowa's fucking awesome." She says, "Iowa sucks". I say "Fuck You! Iowa Rules." Then they leave.

Evan and I head over to Fleetwood for some food and then grab a cab home, with no trophy's to mount from our hunt, only a bad case of the greasy Fleetwood Hippie Hash farts.