beta swims at whiskey river

thursday night has a severe wtf? moment as my maker's on the rocks gets shaken, not stirred, when the dj suddenly drops this into yet another set of innocuous, eighties-obsessed also-rans at sweet ups. that drum machine gets to trepanning and burrows in like a wood tick. weirdest of all, no one seems to notice, which may be the greatest insult to 'em.
friday night, i find myself in the total rec room downstairs at 6s & 8s. think the mylar carpet and the kids sneaking puffs in the corner cinches that tween vibe. that and i think some fifteen year old is totally making eyes at me. i find my hips flummoxing to the weird bass shudders of "Pon de Replay." is there actually a melodic aspect to that bassline, or does the hook come simply from the physical sound of that bass shoving its way through space? maybe i had too much to drink by that point...
either way, i stumble down to the drain at the bottom of union pool, that tattooed meat market i have avoided for two years or more, mostly due to a falling out i had with an old friend who lords over there. the beef has dissolved, but it still feels awkward to return there. as i walk in, i see my old friend at the decks. nod and turn to the bar for another round. not a second later, he drops the title track. even though i'm swimming in whiskey at this point, it doesn't feel like a coincidence...
saturday, i went swimming at the Whiskey River near Big House to this summertime classic. yes, i actually could feel the fire, and i had to take off my shirt to catch the waves and get a good tan.