Most of the weekend went without incident. Concord, NH is a charming little town, which has an unusually high population of pizza joints. In walking around on Friday after the show, looking for a place to have lunch, I think I passed about ten pizza places in about 4 blocks. It's a little silly, think. I certainly don't imagine pizza when I hear the words "New Hampshire." But there it is--pizza everywhere you look. Concord, NH is to pizza places what Albany, GA is to pawn shops. But I did manage to find a couple coffee shops/cafés that fit the bill. Apparently if you don't open a pizza place in Concord, you open a coffee shop/café. But there is a mall (and I use the term loosely) within 2 miles, along with a shopping center near the hotel, so there are other places to go if you need neither pizza nor coffee. Which is good, because once one leaves college, one does discover needs that cannot be fulfilled by either of those substances.
Today was very relaxing. Had Easter lunch at Outback, because most everything else was closed. Silly states where the majority of people are Christian..... Spent the rest of the day doing as little as possible. The only productive thing I did was the laundry, which is the way it should be on a Sunday, I feel. I don't understand how they figure Easter. All the other holidays are on the same day every year, but not Easter. It's tied to whenever Passover is, and I don't quite understand that. They have nothing to do with each other. One is a celebration of sidestepping a plague by painting your door with lamb's blood, and the other is celebrating a guy walking out of a cave. Weatherstripping would have been a lot less messy for the first one, and there'd be a lot more people interested in the story of the second if after he walked out of the cave, he sparkled in the sun and began a moody romance with a teenage girl in a way that would be inoffensive to Mormons. But that's just my opinion. For whatever reason, Easter shows up at different times, and even different months. And one has to wonder how the Jews feel about it. It really does seem like the Christians are stalking them, waiting for their holiday to happen, then pouncing, throwing their much larger (and better advertised) holiday in everyone's faces, with their eggs and chocolate rabbits slipping and sliding around, messing up all that lamb's blood, causing the peeps to look positively ghastly. I say leave the poor Jews alone. Let them have their holiday, and we have some IBM übergeek figure out what the exact day Easter happened and we make it THAT day. Same one, every year. Saves confusion and cuts down on math.
Now, as riveting as that all surely was for you, it is the story of Saturday night which is the real reason I am posting. Saturday night Flo and I ventured into downtown Concord in order for Flo to have her first drink in 40 days, having (foolishly) given up alcohol for Lent. At midnight the day before Easter Lent ends, so it was time for her to get her drink on. (I am so attuned to the lingo of the younger generation.) We ended up at the only bar in Concord that was open past like 11. So there we are, sitting at a table, bourbons at the ready, sipping away, when I happen to glance up at the several TVS that line the walls of this fine establishment. (The name of the place is the Draft--some of you may want to remember that should you ever visit Concord.) Now, there are many TVs, and most of them have been showing various sporting events and reports. Major League Soccer was just finishing up, and as my eyes roamed the televisions, I stopped dead in my visual tracks and did what can only be described as a large double take. Surely I thought to myself, I couldn't be seeing what I thought I was seeing. Surely I am not looking at an attractive young woman giving a sturdy young man a skilled and extremely energetic blowjob. I stared a little longer, waiting for the image to be replaced with the postgame show, convinced that I was the victim of a cable signal crossup. But it was not to be. The scene changed to the same two people now engaged in other energetic acts of coitus, and enjoying the hell out of them, by the looks on their faces. Or at least I assume by the looks on their faces--who the hell notices faces? Well, Flo noticed me noticing something and turned to see what I was looking at. Suffice it to say, she was surprised. I then heard other people around the bar noticing. There seemed to be a gender split, if you can believe it, with a number of shocked "Oh my Gods!" coming from what sounded like female voices and several "Oh YEAHS!" coming from male voices. I myself was taken aback. I have no problem with porn; on the contrary, I am usually a staunch supporter of it. And I certainly have no problem even with porn in public places. I just would've liked to have been told--to have some advance warning. A sign maybe, saying something like, "Saturday Specials--a dozen hot wings for 3.99 and hot beef injection for free!" or "Cum on in for Spunky Saturdays!" Just something to let me know what to expect.
I then wondered if this was something that happened all the time, since the waitstaff didn't seem fazed by it, and it went on for a long time--scene after scene came on, with different performers. And let me explain something--this was not 3 in the morning Skinemax--this was full on, closeup, money shot porn. It was amazing. I thought perhaps it was a social experiment, to see who noticed and what they did when the noticed. But since it lasted a whole hour, I started to believe that the owner of the bar had given up porn for Lent and was doing the same thing Flo was doing--having a stiff one. It was then that the whole thing got even crazier. Just as I was getting used to the idea of what was happening, I turned away, then back to find that the porn had disappeared from the little TV in the corner where I had first seen it, and instead had appeared on the giant movie screen-sized TV to my right AND the two TVs behind the bar directly in front of me. I was surrounded. It was so unexpected (the giant TV had just been showing men's NCAA hockey) that I did a huge take and almost jerked myself out of my chair. Let me rephrase that.... I almost fell out of my chair. Flo and I spent eh rest of the evening talking with each other as if we were wearing blinders. Easter is the time of year celebrating when Jesus rose from the dead, and apparently in New Hampshire, that celebration is expressed through reverse cowgirl.
It was then that the truly sad news was brought to us--after a mere two rounds of drinks, we were informed that the bar stops serving at 1 a.m. New Hampshire is lame, no matter how much porn they show. My administration will fix that. Pond in 2012--No PORN! (without booze)
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