ATTENTION: All of the audio files herein contain loud cursing. If you listen at work, turn down volume or use headphones. We don’t want customers at the front desk to hear me screaming “FUCK!” over and over. Rod Burwell also wants no such thing. enjoy the show!
One very short week ago I purchased a small digital voice recorder from Radio Shack. The cost ($70) at the time seemed a bit much. I didn’t know at the time if it was worth that much for a small stick that records sounds. After last night, however, the $70 seems a small price to pay for the fantabulisticness of the item. I decided as I was leaving the house to drive down to San Jose that I would not take my camera with. It was an experiment to find out how much we could recall the night with just the recorder. This post is the result of said experiment.
Erin decided against going since there were going to be no other girls, as usual. Judd bowed out of the race complaining of headaches or some such ailment. So, that left Scott, Madd Scientist, and I to take on San Jose armed only with the RadioShack Vox.
We started, as usual, at Scott’s place at about 10pm. Madd and Scott were drinking beer, and I was drinking gimlets, determined to get myself far drunker than I had ever been before. We were showing each other different flash shit on the computer while we drunk ourselves into bar-crawl readiness. Madd Scientist blew on Scott’s Sharper Image Breathalyzer as soon as we walked in the door and promptly was declared legally drunk with a .20 BAC. Needless to say he had been drinking before I ever picked him up. Before we left Scott’s house I had had 2 1/2 pints of gimlets and a shot of Finlandia Cranberry that most certainly did not agree with me. I was primed, and on the way out the door I think I blew a .14.
Plan A: Go to San Jose Bar and Grill and harass people.
Outcome: Scott’s friend was not working the door, and the line was a mile long. We said fuck it.
Plan B: Go through parking lot next to the Bar and Grill and enter The Flying Pig through the back door, avoiding possible cover.
Outcome: The code Scott knew to get in through the back door did not work. Madd Scientist told some guy his Lexus sucked, I explored a loading dock, and Scott called his friend to get the new door code. As all of this was happening, a random guy left via the back door. We were in.
They wanted to do shots. After the Cranberry Vodka Debacle I wasn’t about to risk it, so I sat that one out. They had Irish Car Bombs, and while Scott did the whole thing, the majority of Madd’s went all over his shirt. The fucking thing’s fuse was a bit shorter than he expected. We left out the front door and proceeded to Waves Smokehouse Saloon.
On the way to Waves we saw a woman at an ATM across the street from where we were. Madd was yelling things in her direction (things such as “HEY ARE YOU DEPOSITING MONEY?”). I joined in as well, asking her in my outside voice how much she was depositing, and when was the money going to be available for withdrawal. Just then a police car driving in the direction we were walking drove past us, flipped a bitch, and parked right across from us. The officers eyeballed us suspiciously, Madd told them “Don’t be scurred”. They went on their way, and so did we. Around the corner, there is an entrance to an office building that is built as a large wire frame. Madd takes the Vox and climbs to the top, screaming to people across the street that they are, indeed, lesbians. One of the recipients of that taunt was, in fact, a man. I asked Madd for the Vox back, and he reached down to drop it into my waiting hands. It missed, and the recorder subsequently broke into 4 pieces: one main piece, two batteries, and one battery compartment cover. Much to our dismay, all the priceless footage we had gathered up until that point was lost in that accident, which is why I had to reconstruct everything up till now by memory alone. It was easy at that point because I wasn’t yet drinking vodka on the rocks. Also, I should note that it was only the first time of the night that the recorder would break into several pieces. I realized that we had lost good stuff, so I immediately tried to record everything I had remembered right away. At the same time, Madd was chasing cars down the street yelling “HEY YO TRICK!”. Click here to listen to what happened.
So now we get to Waves Smokehouse Saloon. It is us and 24,000 asian folks for electronica night. Scott asks me what I want and I say (stupidly) “anything vodka” while running to take a leak. When I return, he has just a big cup of vodka on the rocks for me. So I started drinking it, and we made our way upstairs to the smoking lounge. They had another DJ up there, but it was pretty much empty, except for the DJ, about 4 asian people, a bartender, and us 3. Madd finds an abandoned drink sitting on a shelf, so he just drinks it right down, and immediately throws it back up. It was just warm whiskey. He then takes my recorder and starts dancing. Dancing like a fool. Also he was yelling things like “WATCH ME DANCE LIKE A CRAZY JAPANESE MAN!” while everyone just stared. Then Madd and Scott started doing the Kidd n Play dance. He then almost fell on top of some people sitting by the fireplace. He then went over to the bartender (who was black) and said “don’t worry, man, I’ll come back later and teach you how to dance”. You can listen to this entire debacle here.
Madd Scientist kept busting into these groups of 3 or 4 hot asian chicks trying to drunkenly spit his game, but they weren’t having any of it. If he wasn’t getting hands in his face, they were just ignoring him or telling him flat out to go away. Then Madd disappears outside and Scott tells me he’s going to get up on stage (the DJ was spinning on a small stage) and try to get kicked out. He then started saying “HEY GET ME”. I said, “what?”, and he yelled “GET THIS! GET ME!”. I only had a voice recorder. I didn’t know how I was supposed to capture his dancing on it, but that’s what he wanted from me. So then we left Waves. In the end, I had vodka on the rocks, and a gimlet at Waves. It was about 1:30am, so we didn’t have much time before bar time, and we still wanted to drink. Next door was a bar called Mac’s Club. It looked like your average hole in the wall bar, there was nothing significant about it… from the outside.
We walked in and grabbed a seat at the bar. There was only the bartender and 3 other people who were way in the back of the bar. We all ordered vodka and OJ. By this point we were babbling a little bit. The bartender comes over and says we can only have one drink before he closes up. I thought to myself, “self? That bartender sounded kind of effeminate”. While he is away making drinks, Madd Scientist knocks over a glass on the bar and ice goes everywhere. Then I see one of the patrons in the back (a man), embrace rather warmly another one of the patrons (also a man). Even through my veil of vodka, the puzzle pieces started to assemble just as Madd Scientist launches into a verbal confrontation with the third patron who was passing us as he was leaving with his 10-speed bicycle. It was at this point that the reality of the situation slid across home plate in my head. Madd Scientist is yelling “COME ON DAWG! COME ON DAWG! YOU BEEN ON THAT BIKE FOR DAYS! COME ON DAWG!” and the bartender jumps right in, provoking both the bicyclist and the Scientist. After the bicyclist leaves, Madd Scientist declares that he is trying out for American Idol right there, and the bartender is Simon. He is still unaware that we are in a gay bar. His choice for the tryout? Wind Beneath My Wings. By Bette Midler. Scientist is told that he is the worst singer in the Milky Way. Madd Scientist gets mad at the dig on his singing ability and starts talking shit to the bartender. They get into a small verbal confrontation as me and Scott are dying with laughter. Then, as if to solidify his logical arguments against the bartender’s ability to judge amateur singing contests, Madd Scientist falls down and takes two barstools with him on his trip. Then I noticed a sticker on the mirror behind the bar. This sticker depicted a man, naked except for a thong, and on the thong was a British flag. It was at this point that I realized that I was not, in fact, hallucinating that I was in a gay bar. I actually was in a gay bar. As an aside, don’t think I’m a homophobe or anything. I mean, if not for the people there (and that one sticker), it looked like any other bar, which is why we went in there in the first place. Also, once we knew, it’s not like we threw down our drinks and ran for the hills. The only reason I wanted to run away was because Madd was starting shit with every single person in there. We drank the rest of our drinks, and then Simon wished us a good night, and we left. Click to hear the compilation of our gay bar experience. If you only listen to one of these make it this one.
Madd and Scott disappeared instantly, leaving me on the sidewalk in front of Waves, wherein I promptly attempted to start a fight with a group of about 14 asians coming out of the bar when one of them told me to shut the fuck up. At the same time as this is going on, Madd is talking shit to a cop, who tells him that if doesn’t want to get arrested he should move along. An asian guy standing next to Madd says “We got your back, dawg. Fuck those pigs.” When I finally rejoin Scott and Madd and tell them about my averted disaster, they want to go find the guys, who have since disappeared into the parking garage across the street. Once we get in front of the garage, though, several things happen simultaneously: Scott starts chatting up a random girl he manages to stop on the sidewalk, Madd is asking everyone on the street, in their cars, and everywhere in between if they have a light for a cigarette he found god knows where, and I walk across the street and stand on the light rail tracks. Two ladies walk past me and I say “hey ladies”. They say hi back. Then I look at a group of 3 people standing and talking on the sidewalk about 30 yards from me. I yell something that was most likely incoherent at the time, and one of the group (another asian guy) starts walking towards me. I start thinking that it wasn’t such a good idea to holler at them. Then he walks past me while saying “c’mon, let’s go get those motherfuckers.” Right now, one day later, I still have no idea who the motherfuckers were or why we were going to get them, but at the time it all seemed logical, so I said “yeah, let’s go!” and followed him into the parking garage. On the way in we snagged Madd to be in our posse as well. The line to pay and exit was backed up on the ramp, and the guy with us went to each car in line, scowled through the driver’s side window momentarily, and then moved on to the next car. We walked hesitantly behind him, knowing that if the next car contained the aforementioned “motherfuckers” then we would have to spring into action. After about 6 cars, our leader shrugged his shoulders and said, “They must not be in here”. Crisis averted. We walk back to the sidewalk to find Scott still chatting up that girl. Here’s a sample of all that went on.
We start to walk to our (presumed) final destination of the night: Iguanas. We’re walking across a parking lot and Scott spies some chicks he’d like to strike up a conversation with. Madd and Scott are talking to the girls while I try to call Casperson to tell him about the night so far. It is about 2am our time now, 4am central. It is around the time I finish leaving Casperson a voice mail (or maybe it was Wirkus) that Madd Scientist blows past me at a brisk walk. The girls are screaming and Scott is yelling for me to get Madd and bring him back there. I go to go after Madd, who is already far ahead of me, while Scott yells that he (Madd) stole the girls’ bong which they had in their car. Due to the night, which makes tracking someone more difficult than the day, and the fact that I was amazingly drunk, I lost Madd. He simply vanished, much like bigfoot and the loch ness monster typically do in tellings of their tracking. Now I was alone, because Scott was back with the girls and Madd had been swallowed by the night. I stood for a few minutes on the sidewalk, until a strange man appeared out of nowhere and creeped me out by just standing near me. I went back by where Scott was and he was gone too, along with the girls and their car. I called his celly and he said the girls gave him a ride to Iguanas and did I find the bong yet? I told him I lost Madd, and I actually felt like those guys in action movies who have to report back to the head bad guy and they have to tell him how they were this close to capturing the hero, but then the magic words… he got away. I start walking towards Iguanas, and about halfway there Madd Scientist leaps out of a shadowy doorway and attacks me. I demand to know where the bong is, and I don’t let him get a word in.
Zach: “Dude, where the hell is the bong? Those girls are pissed.”
Madd: “well, umm–”
Zach: “I’m serious. Where is it, we have to go give it to them.”
Zach: “Scott is waiting with them at Iguanas, where is it?”
Madd: “I broke it.”
So, Madd broke the $70 glass bong that he stole from some girls. I suppose he was doing his part to fight the war on drugs. At around this time Casperson calls back and I drunkenly report the events of the entire night to him. Probably 1 in 5 of my statements were making sense at this point. I have a 22-minute recording because before it all started I was talking in the parking lot, and when I ran after Madd I forgot to turn it off, so it records the events from the theft all the way to Iguanas front door. I’d post it, but there are some big parts of silence where I’m just wandering around, so it’s probably not worth it.
So we get to Iguanas, and who do we run into, but Sarge. He’s working security there on that day. Of course, him and Madd immediately get into it, and my poor, vodka-soaked brain can’t really make sense of it all, so I have some kind of hallucination and start laughing uncontrollably. We get our food and sit down. Madd Scientist takes one bite of his Super Iguana and promptly passes out, his head almost in the burrito. Meanwhile, Scott starts hitting on two girls sitting near us. In the audio I say that one was a 4 and one was a 7 1/2, but in reality the 7 1/2 was a 5 and the 4 was a 2. They both seem interested in Scott, so he forgoes eating and just spits game. I drunkenly consume a vast amount of chips, nacho cheese, and carne asada. Carlos (Iguanas manager or owner) comes in and sees Madd Scientist passed out. Carlos and Madd have a long-standing feud involving Madd Scientist willingness but inability to eat a Burrito-zilla. So, Carlos tells someone to go get him a Sharpie. While Madd is passed out, Carlos proceeds to write “Rader Nation” all over Madd Scientist’s exposed skin. He also draws something on the back of his neck. He further draws a penis on Madd’s right elbow. Quote of the night comes once again from the guy who always works the register at Iguanas. He walks up and tells Carlos, “Hey man, give that dude half a moustache.”
It is right around this time that Scientist jumps up and runs out the front door. The whole restaurant follows him. He starts puking on his way down the front steps. The entire Friday night crowd erupts in “ohhhh shit!” and starts cheering. I scream at the crowd, demanding a camera from someone. Madd weakly raises his arms in victory and the crowd applauds his effort. It is at this time that spontaneous chants of RAIDERS! AND RAIDER NATION! break out in the crowd. Here is the whole Iguanas Episode. I go stand in the street, and turn back towards Iguanas just as Madd attempts a tripod into a headstand on the concrete in front of Iguanas. As he transfers into the headstand he falls over, in turn kicking the 7 1/2(5) girl that Scott is talking to in the face. I’ll say that again: he does a tripod and ends up kicking a girl in the face. I immediately run away, because I figure someone’s getting their ass kicked for this. Scott joins me a few moments later and a minute after that Madd runs up. My play by play of the kick is pretty good.
We start the final leg of the night.
At Scott’s he has the video camera out and is making a video of Madd’s new tattoos while Madd is passed out. I am singing a song about pineapples and crystal meth. Scott starts taping my song when all of a sudden Madd jumps up and runs out the front door. He doesn’t quite make it in time, and there is puke on the floor, on the door, and everywhere just outside the door. I tell the motherfucker to sleep in a bush if he’s gonna puke. I pass out. Scott tells Madd to come in but he says he wants to be in the fresh air. Scott closes the door and goes to pass out. Scott’s apartment complex has doors that lock automatically when you close them, like a hotel door. Madd ran out at 3:30am. At around 5am the phone starts ringing. My celly is on vibrate so I don’t hear it. Scott finally picks up and it’s Madd, who would like to be let back in. He is cold.
Now, in addition to my story, I also had some other shit to get out in public. Erin needs info from everyone in the wedding party, so contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org and get her the info she requires. She also needs info from some other people who may visit this site. Her message is as follows:
THIS POST IS IN CAPS BECAUSE IT IS VERY IMPORTANT. I NEED ADDRESSES FOR WEDDING INVITATIONS. HERE IS A LIST OF PEOPLE WHOSE ADDRESSES I DON’T HAVE (in whazzmaster list fashion):
1. Michael Springer
2. Brian & Katie Kalish
3. Sean Quealy (from the Concourse)
4. Jessica G. (affectionately known as bellgirl)
(Bellgirl, I’m sorry, but what is your last name? There comes a point in one’s life, and this is that point, when I just have to stop being polite and say that I do not know what your last name is, other than that it starts with a “G”.)
5. Steven Ejercito
6. Ryan Sleasar
IF ANYONE EITHER IS ONE OF THESE PEOPLE OR KNOWS ONE OF THESE PEOPLE, CAN YOU PLEASE EMAIL ME ADDRESSES SO THAT EVERYONE CAN BE APPROPRIATELY INVITED TO THE BIGGEST PARTY EAST OF THE MISSISSIPPI? PLEASE SEND ALL EMAILS TO: Erin.Woinowski@gt.com. THANK YOU ALL. WHAZZ ON.
Finally, I would like to let Big Show know that I do, repeat do have the Mad-town Party Mix Vol. 1 cd. I can make an online copy available for you if you want it. Let me know.
And really finally, Super Bowl Sunday is tomorrow and its Raiders/Bucs in San Diego. We’ll be having some kind of get together at someone’s house, and I’ll bring the recorder. My pick: Raiders 21-14.