Friday

After another trying yet successful meatless Friday that also found me stuck in front of this thing all day, it was time for some R n'R . I talked to Robert and Pasadena was suggested. I agreed to meet him there. Being the studious one, I suggested to Saul, who is a mate of mine, we pick up a bottle on the way over there. I also took a little Brandy with me just in case. You never know right? So after the acquisition of the bottle we jumped on the freeway and started off.

We decided to kill sometime on the strip seeing as we didn't wanna show up early and look like jerks.The bottle was cracked open and the night truly began. A mixture of bad puns and The Cramps littered the freeway after we were done with it. After I felt enough time had passed so a call was placed and soon again we were off on a different freeway this time though.

Upon our arrival at the Green St. parking structure we decided not to join them at a table at Wokano's but rather more a couple more rounds at the good old 35er. Lots of good times have been had there. Up to this point I had a great buzz going, so I ordered my usual two extra stiff 7'7's. As I was paying I noticed that Saul had ventured off to score some of the popcorn that is readily available to all drunks who stumble in looking for a final drink and a warm seat. As I turn my head back to make sure my change was coming I see those two seats that conjure up so many memories that reek havoc on my psyche. the moment was quick but it still shook me down to the core.

Luckily Saul had made his way back by then or I really would be stuck on that one all night. We decided to meet Robert for drinks at Wokano's and we entered through the back this time. (Who knew they had a back entrance.) I saw him in that crowded closet that they call a dance area slash bar. Scene was full of the young, beautiful and highly snooty. Every male was all bro'd out drinking their Coronas and every female doing their best to look like the cheap attention grabbing trashy celebutantes that they so desperately crave to be. Point being I hated this place. I fought my way to the bar to get an awful putrid watered down apple juice that they call a 7'7. At this time the cheap music and horrid atmosphere was beginning to weigh we down. I was trying to gather everyone so I could recommend we that we leave, but then I heard a comment that made me laugh: "Did you see that guy's pomp? It's HUGE!

Clearly a sign that I was sticking out like a sore thumb. Good old pomp. Always nice to be the oddball/underdog.Miraculously the bar turns all the lights on. Bailed out by the time of night. After a stop somewhere off Central for some great Tacos, the Brandy was cracked.

Memory becomes fuzzy after that. I needed a night like this. After that comment I think back on how many times my hair and how I do it becomes a conversation starter. I've been in the oddest of places and it still catches everyone's eye. I am terrible with names but sometimes I will be at random places ranging from a King's hockey game to the bay area and I still get greeted with :"Hey, you're that guy with the pomp" or "I knew it was you Mike, when I saw your hair." It reminds me that no matter what happens I will probably be remembered as "the guy with the pomp". And strangely enough, I think I am fine with that. It's nice to be different.