I don't do poker. SUCK at it, might as well just
hand you my money. So I didn't do Pokerfest.
But I was stoked about the afterparty. I really
wanted to meet Bart and his posse.
I hadn't heard any details about it so I went
to Spidey2 and then a cookout with some friends
and family getting home around 10:30. Checked
my e-mail and went to Bartcop, and lo an behold
he posted that they were indeed hooking up at
the Tequila Roadhouse.
It took me about 10 minutes to get my bike gear
together and saddle up, I knew the window was
closing so I had to hustle. Now I'm a bike racer
(track) and I 'gotta brag a little. I left at 10:45 from
Irving Park and California and got down to North
and Wells st in 10 minutes without ever putting a
foot on the ground. When I told the guys on my
team, there was a collective "damn"
When I got to the joint the door guy tells me
it's a $10 cover, ow. But I mention that I'm looking for
the pokerfest crew and the doorman waves me in.
This Bart guy has CLOUT!
I wasn't sure how to locate him, I just figured
I'd see a loud and foul mouthed Okie holding court,
and identify him by the distinctive voice as
heard on BartCop Radio.
To be honest I sort of pictured him as a scrawny,
balding, wrinkled old coot with a sunburned left arm in a flannel shirt.
You know, the hillbillie type that's all balls
and no ass to back him up.
But no, no, no.
Ashcroft needs to be on the lookout for a Brad
Pitt lookalike.
And I sure wouldn't want to go fisticuffs with
this guy, I like my jaw intact.
Bart is a 55 gallon drum full 'o whupass.
Bart wrote me saying he was buying me a shot
of Chinaco, a high honor, and when I tracked him down
I said "You owe me a shot!" And he looked
at me like "Who the fuck is this guy?" I wasn't offended,
but I knew instantly you don't want to be on
his bad side. Unfortunately didn't get much time to talk with him
(or maybe not since I had on a nice glow from
many beers and too few brats at the cookout) But did chat
with some of the entourage, extremely nice folks
all around.
I ran out to an ATM to draw a c-note to lay on
him but the Maestro had left the building, and I had but one choice...
Go back for mas tequila.
The doorman said "No ins & outs dude" But
10 bucks is diminshed Chinaco so...
I spy a group of hotties out front debating whether
to go in, and I'm no carny but I can talk to the ladies.
I corral 'em and bring them in and voila! Doorhomie
waves me back in.
From here the details get fuzzy. I remember some
smokin' british ladies, being told to take my hat off
then seeing some yuppie guys with ball-caps and
making them take them off (out of respect for the fine fine
ladies dancing on the speakers, I mean damn if
I have to go around with helmet head...) And lies, lies, lies.
LA Rick informs me I bought shots for everybody.
Which I have no doubt is true, since I woke up
checked my wallet and only had 20 bucks left,
took some advil and went back to bed.
Funny part is all that fun was had with Barts'
loot. Thanks Bart!!!
Saw Spidey2 and met BartCop, laid eyes on two
superheroes in one day, except one was real.
L8r
Disasterman