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In celebration of talk like a pirate day, The Playa MC and I went down to our local pirate bar. I should mention a couple of things about this bar to you. First off it’s on 6th street, which is all fine and dandy if you’re 18 to 20 something. However at 32, it’s a bit like slumming it. I’m no longer impressed with $1 wells and test tube shots, nor do I wish to explain to some boy in a baseball cap that I don’t have a major because I have, in fact graduated.

Unfortunately for me, I’m not above it like other people my age. I suppose this exposes my undeveloped emotional intelligence. I can’t help it! The people watching is fantastic.

I met up with the Playa MC at an ultra snobbish bar downtown and we started our dissension into the street with the catcalls for drinks coming from every direction. We reached the pirate bar only to find out they weren’t going to open for a while. Oh yea, we’re the only people out on this street who work an 8 to 5. What were we thinking?

We decided to kill some time until they opened and stopped for some pizza. At that point we were privy to 2 crack addicts trying to talk. I’m pretty sure the woman was a hooker, but I was wondering how either of them could function to the point where sex would be a possibility. Not only did they weigh 100 pounds put together, but balance didn’t seem to be one of their stronger suits. Either way they made for a good 5 minutes of people watching. Thanks crack people! I really enjoyed your dancing efforts at entrance of that dance club. Sorry the bouncer was so rude to you and made you leave. Better luck next time!

We were still leaning against the lamppost checking out the happy couple above when a guy sleeping at a café table on the street woke up and asked us if we would like our picture taken. He was waving his Polaroid around like it was flag in order to entice me to his photographical whims. The minute I replied in the negative, he tilted his head back down and was out cold again. Could it be that he is the narcoleptic Polaroid man? I always wanted to meet that man!

We had a couple of drinks at a low-key bar and watched the cops and the bar owner haggle over a scratch on his car. What were you thinking bar owner? You parked your car on 6th street where they serve more liquor than anywhere else in Texas. Did you not realize that something might happen if you leave your car around so many drunks? And you serve drunks, so you must know they don’t have the best judgment. You’re dumb bar owner, even if I did think you were hot and reminded me of Jason Stratham. Side note: What’s my freaking obsession with bald men? Even the PMC asked about it last night. I can’t help it. Who wouldn’t want to lick up that guy?

We headed to the pirate bar in order to find ourselves the only people in the joint. It was a little pathetic, okay really pathetic. The music was loud enough to deafen small children and the endless whines of Sheryl Crow weren’t helping. What’s wrong with these people? It’s NATIONAL talk like a pirate day and you are a pirate bar. Is it me, or do you think that maybe you could use this as a way to pick up a little extra cash on a Monday night? Hire some pirates, do a little advertising about your fun pirate bar and taaa-daaa! It could be a pirate extravaganza!

Instead it boiled down to the PMC and I sharing stories and laughing at random people on the street. The lack of pirates aside, I had a great night. I must say it ranks above people watching at both the airport bar and amusement parks.