Barway Robbery

On Friday K and I went out to party with a few women we used to work out with at the gym, which recently closed. (Which was very sad. It always sucks when a cool local business goes under.) The owners called around and managed to get about ten of us together to have dinner at Via Nove, a fairly swanky restaurant in downtown Ferndale. We've only been in there one other time, this summer, when we decided we would rather spend our measly bar allowance on two drinks and atmosphere rather than the 10 drinks, assorted shots and and basket of fried chips we'd have gotten at Rosie's. And at Rosie's, we're the classy girls, even without going to such extremes as brushing our hair. We had a nice time and even splurged on a salad (which we split, ha ha!) and a couple of drinks apiece, and afterwards some of us went on to explore Ferndilly. We visited the soon to be moved 'Feminine Arts Studio' of Ferndale, which was this awesome lofty building above an underground lounge. It took me a minute to figure out that 'feminine arts' meant 'pole dancing,' which only made me think of Emily, who wants a pole in her living room SO bad. I'm glad pole dancing is becoming popular. It's always a bummer when a market is specific only to strippers, like clear plastic platform shoes or feminine waxing informercials. Why can't the rest of us join in the fun without the social stigma? After that we moved on to Boogie Fever, where at our ripe ages of 27 and 29 I think K and I would have been the oldest people there, if it weren't for the other women we were with. Dodged that bullet! On top of the obnoxious music and the 12 to 1 ratio from man to woman that required a constant blockade of friends around you to help ward off attack, there was a $6 cover and the drinks were MORE than at Via Nove. Robbery! You'd think with all the guys we wouldn't have had to buy anything, but wrong! They were annoying AND cheap. And we'd not only brushed our hair but wore enough lip gloss to slick an ocean. Needless to say, we ended up at Rosie's, where the bouncer kisses us on the cheek when we walk in and the fried chips are always fresh. It was like coming home after being on a long vacation, one spent awkwardly with women well over your own age and tax bracket. Don't get me wrong, these are really nice women, ones that I respect and genuinely like, but sometimes it's nice to sit in a barstool with your buddy who couldn't care less that your shirt only cost you $3 and drink a good beer that doesn't cost $9.