Nestled on the southeastern tip of the Plaza, there’s this very pretentious snobby upscale bar shit hole night club in Kansas City called Blonde. It’s the kind of place that has a line to get in. It’s the kind of place where you sometimes can’t get in because the bouncer at the door doesn’t like the way you look. It’s the kind of place where you hop in, do a line of coke off of some chick’s breasts, then stand around like the guys in “A Night at the Roxbury.”
It’s packed, shoulder to shoulder. Everyone, for the most part, is dressed extremely well. There’s a DJ booth in the front and a private area upstairs with couches. There’s a men’s and women’s restroom, and in between there are two single restrooms that have see-through doors that become opaque when you lock the door. Inside the women’s restroom, there’s a basket full of condoms that say, “protect thy pussy,” with a illustration of a cat on it.
Needless to say, it’s my kind of place.
While the above statement isn’t true, I had the opportunity to visit this fine establishment last night with a group of friends for an Ad Club event. We stayed there for one drink, but Blonde offered up the experience I was hoping for. Once we were there, my friends hopped in line to get drinks, so I headed down to the bathroom. The minute I stepped in, a guy (we’ll call him Toolman, for this exercise) who was urinating turns to me and says...
Toolman: Yo. What’s up bro?
Me: Not much. Man this place is weird.
Toolman: What do you mean, man?
[ Okay Seth, you just learned that Toolman LOVES this place. You’re not in your element, don’t do things to agitate the locals. Blend in! ]
Me: I dunno, it’s the first time I’ve been here... it’s just weird.
Toolman: Yeah, I know, there are a lot of stuck up bitches out there.
[ Did he really just say bitches? ]
Toolman: Yeah man, there a LOT of stuck up bitches up there, they think they’re the shit.
[ Just play along, dude... ]
Me: Oh yeah? Tell me about it.
Toolman: Dude, there’s this one girl that I used to date up there, and yesterday was her birthday.
Toolman: Pssh. Yeah. So I went up to her and I was all like, “yo, happy birthday,” and stuff. Man, whatever.
[ I don’t even know what that means! Is he REALLY still peeing? ]
Me: Sheesh man, that’s crazy.
Toolman: Yeah, I know. Well, I’ll catch up with you later.
Me: Ok, see ya.
So I met Toolman. At first I thought this guy was playing around, but that wasn’t the case. Sadly, it also wasn’t my only interaction with him. Once I went back upstairs to get my drink, there was Toolman, front and center.
Toolman: Hey man! My name is Toolman (edited for privacy).
[ What do I say? I can’t tell him a fake name, someone will call me by my real name and he’ll get pissed... ]
Me: I’m Seth.
Toolman: Cool. Who you here with?
Me: Oh, I know a few people around here somewhere.
[ If I start to look away, maybe he’ll leave... ]
Toolman: Cool, cool.
[ He’s not leaving... ]
Me: Oh, there they are... I think we’re going upstairs. I think the bar is open up there.
Toolman: Right on. It’s not open, but let’s go up there.
At this point I wasn’t too sure what Toolman’s intentions were...
Toolman: So what do you do, man?
Me: I’m in advertising.
Toolman: Right on.
[ An obvious bait, okay, I’ll bite... ]
Me: Uh, what about you?
Toolman: What’s that?
Me: What do you do?
Toolman: Oh, I’m a coach. I coach basketball. We just had a game.
Me: Cool. My dad used to coach. Did you win?
Toolman: Oh, yeah.
[ Bruno, someone, anyone... save me... ]
Toolman: See that girl over there? That’s the one I dated. Man, fuck that shit.
Me: I see.
[ Ew, he’s leaning in to tell me something! ]
Toolman: See man, 41’s not it.
Toolman: Think about it. If you’re 41, not married and have no kids, that should be an sign.
[ wtf? ]
Toolman: Pssh, yeah. She’s fucking crazy.
[ sigh... yes, Bruno, save me! ]
Bruno: Hey, what’s up?
Me: Not much... this is Toolman.
Toolman: Hey. So I met this hot bitch the other day.
[ Here we go... ]
[ No, Bruno, don’t encourage him... ]
Toolman: Yeah, she was some stylist or something. And I’m all like, “fuck yeah I’ll let you cut my hair,&rdquo and shit.
Me: Yeah, sweet.
Toolman: Man, we should go mingle. That’s what we’re here for!
Me: You go ahead, I’m going to stay here.
Toolman: Cool, I’ll check you later.
This was becoming painful. Blonde was bad enough, but this guy was cornering me and I wasn’t enjoying myself one bit. We watched from above as he “mingled,” and by mingle, we mean talk to more dudes.
Toolman: So who are you here with?
Me: Oh, about seven people, there all around here somewhere.
Toolman: I think I want to talk to that girl, what do you think?
[ Geez dude, that’s my friend, I wouldn’t wish that upon my enemy... ]
Me: Heh, no.
Toolman: Pssh, yeah, I hear ya. So I know this guy who plans events.
[ Name dropping now? ]
Me: That’s cool did h---
Toolman: He’s planning some big New Year’s thing at Californos.
Me: Wow. How much are those tickets?
Toolman: Maaaaan, I dunno. Probably like $80 or something.
Bruno: But you’re getting in for free, since you know the guy, right?
Toolman: Hell yeah.
Bruno: Not us, we don’t know anyone.
Me: Yeah, we suck.
Toolman: Let’s go talk to some bitches.
Me: Naw, I’m good.
Toolman: Cool, I’ll be right back.
I really didn’t want to talk to Toolman anymore and Bruno was definitely done with him. That’s when I realized this COULD be fun. So I put myself in Jim’s position (a la The Office) and prepared for Toolman to return. It didn’t take too long.
Me: So, who you got your eyes on?
Toolman: Pssh, man, it’s whatever.
Me: I know. I see a few here... maaaan, hot!
Toolman: I’ll tell you what, it’s not what it’s cracked up to be.
[ Everyone is trying to get me to come over, but I can’t leave now! ]
Me: Right. Wait, what?
Toolman: Love, man. It ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.
Me: Tell me about it. That’s why I just pump and dump. Ya know?
Toolman: Yeah, I hear ya.
Me: You know, just pump ’em and dump ’em. It’s silly.
Toolman: Hey man... I don’t get the playing field confused with the sidelines. I gotta get back out there.
Me: Sweet. We’ll we’re outtie. Get some!
Toolman: See ya.
And that was my experience at Blonde. Yes, those guys really do exist and if you think they get the playing field confused with the sidelines, think again, brother... think again.