Wednesday, September 20, 2006

What to do in New Westminster

Forgive me for jumping all over the place, but I have no bearings of time and space. Oh, my goodness, I'm a poet and didn't even know it.
OK. I did know it.
So, anyhoo, nonetheless and all of that, continuing on from a previous post somewhere back there in the vault, Ross, Jeff and I attended the Rock 101 Grand Marnier BBQ party where we drank free booze and then made our way to New Westminster, where Ross and Jeff reside*. New West is apparently the oldest city in Western Canada. Of course, that's not really what it's known for nowadays. Tell anyone you're from New West and you'll get a terrified, yet sympathetic look.Where else can you frighten people just by asking for directions, get knifed for your phone on the way to the Skytrain or get a peep show from a streaker while waiting for the morning bus?
Looking back, I can't recall why we went to New West. I suppose it's a hard choice to make when you have drinking in Downtown Vancouver on one hand and drinking in a New West hole on the other. Regardless, the boys had picked New West as destination of choice (because when you've had a private party at the Boathouse, I guess you can only go up!) and I somehow agreed."YES!" I must have cried out. "Let's go to Scruffys!" (I'd obviously had a few already).
Now, Scruffy's is a down-at-its-heels bar, conveniently located underneath the Skytrain station and frequented by muggers, dumpster divers and genuine weirdos. It's sort of like the Cambie, but not as "commercial," if that's possible. But it does have its own kind of "charm." I witnessed some of this charm the Saturday before. Ross took me out to the Keg for a meal ("served" by sketchy waitress with a black eye) and naturally we thought, "Hey, why not end this special evening with a few drinks at Scruffys!?" We are pure class all the way.
So, we get to Scruffy's and are later joined by Jeff. He too can not resist its low-key charms (or waitress). But this Saturday is no ordinary Saturday. Low and behold, it's LIVE MUSIC NIGHT...which, in New West terms, turns out to mean: "Threatening Karaoke by Drunk Locals."
We knew we were in for a time when the most beautiful clear voice started singing Evanescence. But there was something off about it to me. We couldn't see who was singing because we were around the corner, but I had a feeling...
The waitress came over with our drinks. Without us saying anything, she told us, "Yes, it's a very gay man singing." I knew it!
A very gay man who then proceeded to threaten everyone if they didn't applaud. And then proceeded to scoop up the existing naysayers and hump them on the pool table.
Anyhoo, I wasn't expecting a repeat of Saturday and its madness (we ended up seeing our black-eyed crap waitress stumble in later on) because, of course, it was Tuesday night. So, it was really just us three in the bar. And a Boxing machine. But that was enough for trouble. As you can see:











*There, I changed it, are you happy now?

No comments: