The Roxy. Yes, you read correctly.

Today went by rather quickly. Put in my time at work, had an appointment in East Van in the afternoon and made it down to Sip to meet up with Po and N at about six o'clock to have dinner before heading over to the Roxy. Yes, the Roxy. I will interject here that I have not been to the Roxy in at least five years, probably closer to ten, and I was going because it was a fundraiser for a girl that I work with who is raising money for Canuck Place. Terminally sick kids, people.
I hadn't seen Po and N in what seemed to be ages. They both looked great and within minutes I remembered why it is that I hook up with them so often: because we have so much in common, we're good listeners and we have a lot of shared experiences between us. We all had a little (okay, in my case it was a lot) of unburdening to do. We came to many conclusions: they lied about the desert prices at Sip; I could have walked away with a nice pair of Jones New York sunglasses, but did the honest thing and turned them in; and men and women are different and this difference is exacerbated by internet dating.
I will not speak for Po and N, but for me I can say that I have had some trust and intimacy issues lately: why now, at 30 am I reluctant to hold men's hands? Why do I shy away from affection and intimacy? I am normally an affection person and I enjoy intimacy, so WTF? And then Po hit the nail on the head with breathtaking precision: it's internet dating. My last (six year, healthy) relationship started when we met at work. The foundation was laid as we communicated in the workplace and built a relationship based on friendship and workplace camaraderie. I saw him interact with my coworkers and I got a feel for his personality and work ethic on a day to basis. I was able to start to trust and like him because I saw him on a daily basis and this allowed for a sense of closeness and intimacy to flourish. With internet dating you meet someone based on your likes/dislikes that have been entered into a database, and within two weeks you're expected to have this connection or closeness. But what is it based on? Normally it's based on trust, but how can you trust someone that heretofore was a complete stranger to you but two or three weeks ago? And therein lies the conundrum - for me, at least. It makes perfect sense. It takes me a while to get to know anyone. Even N said to me tonight that she was never sure if I was having fun because of the way I carry myself. I asked Po about it later on and she said that because of our history together she was able to read me fairly well. So, like all good things, it comes with time. I'm not weird. I just want to know your middle name and your favorite food and how many pets you had growing up before we hold hands and you kiss the back of my neck and affect some level of familiarity and intimacy with me. I am, by nature, an affectionate person capable of intimacy; I just want to make sure you're not a snake-oil salesman first, because I've met my fair share.
So we had dessert and then headed over to the Roxy. Oh. My. God. I don't even know where to begin. Let's start with the ape like fellow that a) ID'd us and then b) ran over our hot bods with a metal detector. And checked our purses. Okay. Whatever. Then, it was Hawaiian night inside. This meant that all the waitresses were half naked and were covered in fake tattoos. The fake tattoos matched their fake tits. What!? I felt old. And there were Corona signs everywhere and we were force fed Corona and I hate Corona. There was a cute boy in an Atari shirt. I'm a sucker for an Atari shirt. Dude, I had an Atari. So while we were contemplating whether to kill ourselves or do shooters, my coworker came over and commiserated with us. Then the band came on and yeah, it was a cover band, but they played music that I listen to (somewhat) and they were actually pretty decent. And our waitress. Wow. Quite a persistent lady. When Po and N declined drinks she came around three minutes later to ask if they were "sure". Oh, and within like six minutes of our arriving they asked if wanted shooters. Oh, to be 22 again. Did I mention I felt old?
Then - yes, it gets worse - they gave us Corona oriented marketing products and leis and I was like "for the sweet love of Jesus Christ, cannot you not just leave me alone to listen to this cover band while I drink beer that tastes like rat piss?". Did I mention the whole place smelled kind of musty? And a couple of guys tried to put the moves on Po and N when we first got there. And then other guys started taking their shirts off to get into the whole "beach" vibe. I didn't mind that so much...
Yeah. That was pretty much it. It was a long day. It was a good day. I love spending time with Po and N. I'm sure it will be another ten years before I get back to the Roxy, but it was an experience nonetheless, and one that I was happy to share with my friends.
I know I mention it a LOT, but my friends are the bomb. And I know that I can be hard to read and I really should have hugged both Po and N, but I'm still kind of new to the hugging thing, and I think my friends get that I love them to death and am so delighted that they would spend their Thursday night with me. At the musty Roxy. With leis.
Hey - who wants to get boob jobs this weekend?