“I couldn’t hear you through the flashlights and explosions” (Phoenix Part IV)

Saturday in Phoenix was just as beautiful as the day before. If not just for sake of temperature increasing to 90! Woot! I set up plans for Scottsdale bars with T-Cupp for later that evening. In the meantime, I’m going to work on my tanline…

Had a few funny text messages from Ian asking me about afterhours again, making fun of me being in Scottsdale bars (“GROSS!”), and asking my preference in breakfast foods (scrambled or overeasy? buttermilk or blueberry?) and sleep clothes (wife beater and boy shorts or nude?).

We didn’t get out until almost 11. I made sure to wave at a couple highway cameras I didn’t notice the first day I was speeding around in my Rene-baby. I can almost be positive that Enterprise will be FedEx’ing me a package with around 8 photos courtesy of the City of Scottsdale… and I’m not sure they’ll upload well to Snapfish.

We started at Maloney’s. Reminded me of a twisted McCarthy’s with a side o’ Liquid. Integrated movie scenes with music throughout the night. Immediately find some weirdos — but, of course. They offer to buy us both a drink, then they walk away when we make way to the bartender. WTF? Sippin’ it quicker, we look over and see a group of guys and the one-that’s-dancin-around-crazy motions for us to come over. Hotness.

And they’re ALL baseball players. Of course. Phoenix during Springtime — Oh, the humanity!

We talk a couple of them into hitting the next club on the menu. Myst looks nice. I mean, what bar wouldn’t that has flames coming off the roof? The refuse us entry (“no hats, tennis shoes, or sandals”) Say thanks to the b-boys for that one. We head a street over to Axis/Radius. They allow entry (“But without the hats”). Great club, if not for ass-hat bouncers. We’re up in VIP dancing/drinking/wiggity-whacking, I head down to piss, they don’t let me back up. One of the guys sees me downstairs, comes to get me (meanwhile walking RIGHT PAST THE ASS-HAT) and he refuses BOTH of us re-entry.

I’m now stuck in Scottsdale with two dudes and a friend that doesn’t answer her phone in loud clubs. I end up going to Maloney’s again. Only upon meeting ANOTHER door guy: “No one’s going in. Bar’s closing.” It’s 2 o’clock. Party over. Well, I guess for every one else. I end up in an interesting cab ride to I-don’t-know-where-Scottsdale. Luckily, I was pre-occupied enough to not have another mortifying text messaging moment. Although the morning freak-out when I see 10:30 on the clock and it’s really 7:30 was a little overwhelming.

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