When I lived in Banff in 2000, I came to love this place like almost no other place on earth. I remember crying when I left that spring for the last time. Part of it was the girl (Yes, Kaylee, you), part of it was the house (Gus, Guy, Christie, Eric, Krissy, Jane, Margeaux, Julie and, sometimes, Chris), and part of it was how the town brought out smiles and love in everyone who came through, whether or not they were tourists, residents, or temporary workers.
Last night brought back those memories ... what a night. Where to start ...
We tried to go to the St. James Gate, but the line was not moving. While we were in line, this cute blonde was smoking behind us, by herself. More on her later.
Instead of waiting in the not-quite-bitter-but-still-scrotum-tightening cold (which makes me wonder, are scrotums and nipples made of the same stuff?), we headed to the Rose and Crown, a faux English pub.
Yes, it's St. Patrick's Day, and we're celebrating it in an English Pub. Oh Well. Much, much more after the break...
We played pool for a bit ... won our first game, got destroyed the second time around, by Agrologists. Is that the science of being Agro?
We also talked to the only other non-Asian minorities in Banff.
When the one man show started, we didn't know what to expect. In the end, this guy was funny, talented, and rockin'.
The crowd swelled and we were now in a very warm, very packed bar.
About that time, I noticed a super cute blonde at the turn by the stage. She was sitting with a slightly less cute friend, AKA the grenade. I took Phaux out for a cigarette, and explained to him that his duty as a wingman was to fall on the aforementioned grenade. At this point, we re-evaluated the grenade, and determined that she was in fact a mortar shell.
Anyway, this is Phaux finishing doing the worm to an Irish Jig, in order to impress our targets. Take that, River Dance!
Shortly thereafter, I did the superman across the laps of our targets.
The mortar shell did not explode on impact, but started ticking.
The girls kiss ... now the question becomes, is this an opportunity for a three-and-a-half-some?
I believe that her arms are thicker than my legs.
This is actually the cute one ...
Using the headband as a prophylactic ... Am I Macguyver or what?
Some other drunk annoying girl tried to enter the mix and was denied.
I got a little too fresh and Leslie revealed that she had a boyfriend. Ugh.
After I playfully rubbed a dirty bar rag in her face, she returned the favor ...
Followed by straw sillyness ... at this point we've each had a few beers, a couple shots of Jamesons, and about 4 Jagerbombs. Yikes.
We show off our Rock Band skills ..
Unfortunately, I am not that flexible.
I promised penetration .. and here it is .. full on nostril-rape.
Apparently, the nostril-rape was a big hit ...
That was the last we saw of those two (well, almost ...) ... but after a quick smoke, we ran into the blonde, Haley, who was in line (at the beginning of the post, keep up!). Her friend with the faux-plastic-barbie look was less memorable.
Phaux found a new object of his affection, Holly, with an H.
Haley goes for the nuzzle.
Then Holly looked like she was going to collapse, so we high tailed it back to our hotel before we got accused of dropping roofies.
When I got back to the hotel, I realized I still had Leslie's ring ... oops.
Awesome night ... thank you gods of the road trip, you came through again.