Monday, December 01, 2008

Turkey and monkeys

I ate at three homes Thanksgiving Day and gained nary a pound.

I'd like to say it's because I went to the gym all day Saturday, but that wouldn't be true. I slept away most of that day, then went to see Slumdog Millionaire, which I predict will be nominated for Best Picture. This has nothing to do with the quality of the film, but it pushes all the right Oscar buttons.

It's a love story set in an exotic place, a rags to riches story, a Dickensian orphan story, a gangster story, a multicultural story - and it is more about 150 minutes long.

My other cultural experience was in 3D, going to a place called the Bad Monkey Bar in the town of Algonquin. Click on the title of this post and see for yourself.

As far as I can tell, it's the area's first mixed bar, meaning it's owned by lesbians and frequented by openly gay and straight folks of all ages, if mostly of the white persuasion.

It was karaoke night, and way too many people were singing country songs. Oddest was a guy who looked like every suburban cop - tall, stout, white, flattop crewcut - singing a frat boy reggae tune called Because I Got High. His posse included another middle aged dude who could pass for James Gandolfini playing Tony Soprano.

The deejay bear had a belly like a 9-month pregnant woman. His sidekick had that requisite husky homo guy goatee, and all their friends smoked and hung out on and off outside the place, spilling over in front of the Jimmy John's sub shop, which closed at 9 or so.

The beer was relatively cheap, too, and to add to the fun, every half hour or so the waitresses got up on the bar to dance and to pour booze down the willing throats of patrons.

While all these women were attractive, only a few of them looked comfortable moving to the grooving on a table top. And none of them really had the trampy moves down like in that stupid movie Coyote Ugly, which would have earned them big tips - if not more photos snapped by the gray haired lesbian couple in the corner.

A boy dancer could clean up at this place as there seemed to be quite a number of frisky women present. And for gay people, scoping who was watching what undulated and where could help making the decision whom to flirt with all the more easy.

I am pretty sure I will be going back, as suburban entertainment doesn't get any better.

But wait a minute! A friend at work reminded me that we went to a dive in Hoffman Estates last summer, in a strip mall, with a laundry, where lesbians - one in here finest plaid golf shorts and sweater vest - ruled the karaoke night, especially the one who sang Baby Got Back.

Could this be a trend?