Tonight pretty much sucked. TW from Cavanaugh’s was turning 21 so the plan was to get together at Whisky Dix near Old City. I was to pick CH. up on the way to the bar. However, as I started driving, I knew something was wrong. I heard this strange noise and felt the car pulling to the side. So I pulled over and got out to look at the car. Sure enough, I had a flat tire. From my best guess, snow, slush & ice built up in the back of the wheel well and then froze solid against the tire. When I started to drive, the ice essentially scored the tire and soon punctured the tire.
Now, I recently changed insurance companies and with the new insurance I purchased 24-hour emergency roadside assistance. Now, I could have changed the tire myself, but since I have a bad back and it was freezing cold outside, I thought it best to use the roadside assistance. I called the number and after being put on hold (off & on) for about 20 minutes or so, the operator told me that all of the contracted companies in the area were unavailable. She offered to use the Philly yellow pages to call someone to come fix the tire, but then I would most likely have to pay for it and apply for reimbursement. Instead, I drove the two or so blocks to my house and left the car there.
I called CH and told her what was going on and she decided she would pick me up & we’d go to Whisky Dix. While waiting for her to pick me up, AO called and asked if I knew the bouncers at the door because he was bringing his girlfriend who was underage. I told him I’ve never been to the bar so I had no idea who could be working. CH picked me up and when we got to Whisky Dix, TW was standing out front. We parked in the lot and didn’t see TW outside anymore so we went into the bar (gotta love club courtesy—no cover!). So CH & I go in and order a couple bottles of beer.
Now, let me describe Whisky Dix. It is a hard core biker bar at its best. There was a hardcore rock/grunge band playing so loud I couldn’t hear a damn thing. A moose head and ceiling fan were covered with hanging bras and underwear. The one bartender (shaved head, goatee, wife beater, arms covered in tattoos, etc) got up on the bar and started blowing fire. He also started spitting 151 all over everyone in the crowd (not all of it lit up). An alcohol shower was interesting to say the least. CH & I stuck out like sore thumbs (I was in jeans, a polo & my leather jacket). It was obvious we didn’t belong.
We kept looking around for TW but couldn’t find him. After 10 minutes or so, he showed up and said he had been out front because AO’s girl couldn’t get in. He asked if I could get them into any area bars and I told him I could try & that after we finished our beers, we’d be outside. (while drinking, I text’d the security manager from one of my old jobs who told me I could probably get in there).
So we get outside and I tell them we can get into my old job, but nobody seems particularly interested. AO ends up leaving (with his underage girlfriend, thus eliminating the problem). However, instead of going back into the bar, TW decides we should go up to the far Northeast to a bar. Now, CH wasn’t planning on staying a long time because she had another party to go to, so she wasn’t thrilled with the idea. I wasn’t driving (and had planned on taking a cab back home) so getting stuck in the NE wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. Why we didn’t go back into the bar (seeing as everyone was now of age) that we were originally supposed to, I’ll never know.
CH and I discussed it and I told her that if she didn’t want to go, then we didn’t have to, I didn’t really care. Instead of having me take a cab, she ended up bringing me back home.
So to recap my night:
Left house at 9:05 & got flat tire
Went to bar for a 21st birthday and had a single beer (didn’t drink with the birthday guy)
Was dropped off at my home by 11:30
What a waste of a night…
UPDATE: I went to get a new tire on Monday and since I had just bought four new tires last August, I still had a warranty on the tire. So I got a tire (including installation) for $30. About $35 discount. Not too shabby.
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