Nikiya & Aweh before the storm.Sometimes, newbies become regulars in one night.... and regulars turn into complete strangers who change clothes four times in one night, and complete strangers become.... big ole violent assholes that wanna fight your door guys for no reason. And sometimes big ole assholes become best friends in that moment when you both agree that the next dude who's wriggled into the DJ booth, wrapped his neck and face in a coat and is bobbing furiously to The Pointer Sisters is a bigger asshole than either one of you could ever be, and you toast each other over a stiff shot of Tennessee whiskey or mossy scotch.
Alot of people dissolved into shadowy versions of themselves on this night, and it was strange...like full moon night strange. It probably all started when Grogworld's Finest Denmother Nikiya, her hub-to-be Jimmie and Aweh all strolled in. Aweh drops by every few months, has a drink or two and walks out standing up with 100% respectability and all men's jaws in seeing distance scraping the floor.
Not tonight. Gin and Tonic, meet Aweh. Aweh, meet "uh yo Aweh, you aight?".
In between the time she had her first sip of gin and tonic and the time when we were scraping her off the bar couch at 3:00am, a gang of wacky and weird shit went down which included
1) A fight outside the bar that I didn't see. But upon stepping outside, Isaac was nursing a hand in ice, and he, Greg and Sonny were staring off into the eastern horizon like they just saw a lion run down the sidewalk towards Inglewood.
2) Sonny, who apparently helped fend off the attacker outside, was talk-in-your-ear-with-thick-slobber drunk and screaming in our ears about how he knocked some fool out after ducking a punch, hitting him with three left jabs, a right hook, a flying roundhouse crescent kick, a mule kick to the chest and two Steven Segal arm-breaks. Meanwhile, he could barely sit in his stool or stop saying "i'm faded fool...i'm faded... play "BONITA APPLEBUM"! i'm faded, shit...i'm faded fool *laughing*".
3) Jorge saying bye FOUR times and coming back after each farewell in a different outfit....the Budweiser sweater....the leather jacket with no shirt under it and a fedora....
4) A huge spread of vomit across the bathroom floor in the men's room. Not cool. Not cool at all Sonny.
At closing time, the bodies filed out like they always do....feeling good, smiling, shaking hands and bumming cigarettes. But one body laid slain on the couch.... one body with really nice toes and every available man in the bar rushing to it with room temperature water and hangover advice. A body that knew not what happens when you come to Saints looking great asking for gin from the likes of Ian and Bart.
They will destroy you if you let them...and they did. But even in death-grip of gin, the lady held her poise as good as anyone of us who aren't drinkers could have. There was no spitting thick globs of slobber on the DJs' faces asking for "Bonita Applebum" or throwing up all over the floor like you were blind.
Two cheers for poise young lady, bravo.
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