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A new clue came to light, more information developed....and still, no glasses.
As I do from time to time to balance my accounts, I accessed my bank account online. And noticed something from the night of the whole drunken birthday thing. A withdrawal from an ATM at one of our local gentlemen's clubs. In other words, a titty bar.
Well now. This was interesting. As I had had no idea I had been at said bar. And I am not generally one for such bars anymore, as usually, they bore me. But apparently this one had not bored me that night, because while money was withdrawn from the on-premise ATM, I did not wake up with that much money in my wallet. It seemed obvious that I must have spent said cash in said establishment. Not optimal, I know, but still cheaper than new glasses if my glasses turned out to be at said place.
I called, but didn't get much from the manager other than a "let me take your name and number and if anything turns up, we'll call." Well, screw that. I hopped in the Jestermobile and headed downtown to investigate in person.
I quickly found a metered spot a quick walk from the bar, with money still on the meter. A positive omen!
The first bartender I questioned had not worked that night, nor had she seen any eyeglasses behind the bar, and she had worked just about every night since, nor were there any there when she checked after I told her the sordid tale. Well, hell.
I then approached the DJ, thinking maybe someone had turned them in to him. He, too, had not worked that evening, and knew me from around town, so checked the DJ stand just in case. Nada. Heading into the other half of the bar, I asked the bartender at that bar the same queries. While she had not been there either than night, the security guy talking to her had. Not only that, he remembered me!
Well, hot damn! Maybe we can shed some light on what happened.
I knew from my financial records that I had made the withdrawal at 1:15 am, though how I was still upright and conscious considering my oft-reported condition at the P bar was a mystery. In any case, according to the bouncer, I had come in, and had been chatting with the bartender on duty that night, who after he described her, I realized it was a girl I had known for years. He said that at that time, I was wearing my glasses.
He went on to describe as I nodded off at the bar, and was basically snoozing there. Normally he would have tossed me immediately, but since the bartender knew me and vouched for me, he let me stay.
Apparently I woke up enough to get some dances from a couple of the dancers. According to the bouncer, they were hot Russian girls, too. Sadly, I remember none of this. The last time I paid for dances and don't remember anything about getting them was TWENTY YEARS AGO, on my 21st birthday.
Sad, so sad.
After that, I went back to dozing at the bar, until finally he had to ask me to leave, as they were closing. I went out into the courtyard, which is part of another bar in the complex, and apparently dozed at a table for another hour or so, until they were closing up THAT bar, and he heard over the radio that they had told me to leave, and I left. (He knew it was me when they described over the radio the guy "snoozing.")
That would have been around 3-4 am, if those particular bars were closing. Maybe as late as 5 am, depending upon when they spotted me.
The bouncer was great tonight, and not only checked behind all the bars in the courtyard area, but also in the manager's office.
Nada. No glasses.
I even stopped in at the pizza joint near the exit and a bar I frequent right around the corner from there and inquired, and neither one of them had my glasses. Nor did yet another bar I may have wandered up to after all this, though they were almost definitely closed by that time.
All in all, everyone was surprisingly helpful and friendly. But even with all this new information, questions remain.
Where did I go after they threw me out of the courtyard?
How did I get home? I presume a taxi, as it could neither have been my truck, which I had left at home, nor my bicycle, which was still locked up downtown near the P bar.
And where the flying hell are my glasses?
The dozing off part is not out of character. The getting dances, losing that much of my memory from the night, and losing my glasses, however, are very much out of character.
And I had such high hopes that I had finally cracked the mystery, too. Damn it.
Chances are I left them in the cab and the driver just tossed them, rather than turn them in.
Fuck.
I still have no idea how or why I got as drunk as I did off what little I drank. Very, very odd.
As I do from time to time to balance my accounts, I accessed my bank account online. And noticed something from the night of the whole drunken birthday thing. A withdrawal from an ATM at one of our local gentlemen's clubs. In other words, a titty bar.
Well now. This was interesting. As I had had no idea I had been at said bar. And I am not generally one for such bars anymore, as usually, they bore me. But apparently this one had not bored me that night, because while money was withdrawn from the on-premise ATM, I did not wake up with that much money in my wallet. It seemed obvious that I must have spent said cash in said establishment. Not optimal, I know, but still cheaper than new glasses if my glasses turned out to be at said place.
I called, but didn't get much from the manager other than a "let me take your name and number and if anything turns up, we'll call." Well, screw that. I hopped in the Jestermobile and headed downtown to investigate in person.
I quickly found a metered spot a quick walk from the bar, with money still on the meter. A positive omen!
The first bartender I questioned had not worked that night, nor had she seen any eyeglasses behind the bar, and she had worked just about every night since, nor were there any there when she checked after I told her the sordid tale. Well, hell.
I then approached the DJ, thinking maybe someone had turned them in to him. He, too, had not worked that evening, and knew me from around town, so checked the DJ stand just in case. Nada. Heading into the other half of the bar, I asked the bartender at that bar the same queries. While she had not been there either than night, the security guy talking to her had. Not only that, he remembered me!
Well, hot damn! Maybe we can shed some light on what happened.
I knew from my financial records that I had made the withdrawal at 1:15 am, though how I was still upright and conscious considering my oft-reported condition at the P bar was a mystery. In any case, according to the bouncer, I had come in, and had been chatting with the bartender on duty that night, who after he described her, I realized it was a girl I had known for years. He said that at that time, I was wearing my glasses.
He went on to describe as I nodded off at the bar, and was basically snoozing there. Normally he would have tossed me immediately, but since the bartender knew me and vouched for me, he let me stay.
Apparently I woke up enough to get some dances from a couple of the dancers. According to the bouncer, they were hot Russian girls, too. Sadly, I remember none of this. The last time I paid for dances and don't remember anything about getting them was TWENTY YEARS AGO, on my 21st birthday.
Sad, so sad.After that, I went back to dozing at the bar, until finally he had to ask me to leave, as they were closing. I went out into the courtyard, which is part of another bar in the complex, and apparently dozed at a table for another hour or so, until they were closing up THAT bar, and he heard over the radio that they had told me to leave, and I left. (He knew it was me when they described over the radio the guy "snoozing.")
That would have been around 3-4 am, if those particular bars were closing. Maybe as late as 5 am, depending upon when they spotted me.
The bouncer was great tonight, and not only checked behind all the bars in the courtyard area, but also in the manager's office.
Nada. No glasses.
I even stopped in at the pizza joint near the exit and a bar I frequent right around the corner from there and inquired, and neither one of them had my glasses. Nor did yet another bar I may have wandered up to after all this, though they were almost definitely closed by that time.
All in all, everyone was surprisingly helpful and friendly. But even with all this new information, questions remain.
Where did I go after they threw me out of the courtyard?
How did I get home? I presume a taxi, as it could neither have been my truck, which I had left at home, nor my bicycle, which was still locked up downtown near the P bar.
And where the flying hell are my glasses?
The dozing off part is not out of character. The getting dances, losing that much of my memory from the night, and losing my glasses, however, are very much out of character.
And I had such high hopes that I had finally cracked the mystery, too. Damn it.
Chances are I left them in the cab and the driver just tossed them, rather than turn them in.
Fuck.
I still have no idea how or why I got as drunk as I did off what little I drank. Very, very odd.
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