Tuesday, June 1st to Sunday, June 6th, 2010
Falon is a handful. She's tiny, but a handful. She's a devil because with her it's details galore and I haven't even scratched the surface of who she is or what she's about. Details follow:
Look for the type-face font, all lower case in classic black tattoo ink on the top of her left wrist: it spells out a single word. "live." ...if memory serves.
Identify her friends as the ones that have the same style of tattoo, but with a different word for each woman.
See the Betsey Johnson earrings she wears: a tiny dark-bejeweled skull, with an almost invisible pink ribbon adorning the top of the skull, one on each ear.
Compared to those earrings, the brightly-bejeweled Hello Kitty bracelet on her right arm practically shouts out its presence, with Kitty's head big around as a half-dollar coin.
Fallon likes skulls. In her words: "I have a skull fucking fetish."
Make sure you read that right, Dear Reader. That's "fucking" as in "wow, that's fucking awesome!" (i.e., for emphasis) and not as in the act of fucking a skull.
Tonight Fallon had an hour and a half long case of the hiccups. I didn't have the heart to try and scare her out of them, even though she kept asking me to.
Fallon knows how to make herself comfy. She can take her socks and laced up shoes right off without using her hands. But she's not so good at putting them back on after 3 a.m.
Luckily helping a woman put her shoes on is something I learned to do a long time ago. It was nice to put the skills back into practice before getting Fallon into the truck and on the road back to Jack's.
Fallon is good at alliteration, too. For example, she uttered the following F-Bomb triple pack on the way back to Jack's from Thunder and Crystal's place: "Fuck you, fucking fuckers!"
To be clear, she was speaking in the general direction of a certain SJPD patrol car that was busy ignoring traffic lights a half block in front of us as I drove down Taylor.
She also has a very pretty belly button. I bet she can't remember when she showed me, or why. ;)
Falon has a taste for chicken nuggets and is not afraid to holler at you in order to get your attention. I am certain I'll see her at Jack's again, and I can't wait, because she's awesome.
In case you need further evidence of this fact: you may recall all the way back on Day 1, where I described a group of women who bought and tried on Jack's tank tops, with one of them changing in the bar while the rest went in back to put there's on? The "one" was Fallon.
She asked me then if I danced, and I said no (needed to be way more drunk to dance). Because of that question (and for a few other reasons) that's what I'm going to do next year: 365 days of learning how to dance.
She's a bartender, can pace you shot for shot and knows how to dance. Her sister is very talented too.
She's left her mark on me. So, like I said, she's awesome. Meet her, if you get the chance.
....
Hardcore Braves Fan was at Jack's on Sunday the 6th. He sat at table 2 and I sat with him. He was busy watching game two of the Lakers - Celtics championship series and casually mentioned he'd run a triathlon this morning.
Yep, chill as can be.
Soon as he said it I looked at him for visible signs of tiredness, but he wasn't showing it. No rings under his bright blue eyes, no slow movements when he got up to get another beer. Hellz if I'd just run one of those I'd be at home sleeping the rest of the day, I'm sure of it.
When asked, Hardcore Braves Fan made it clear he was tired, but not so tired he couldn't go to the bar for a couple beers and watch some sports. I'd like to be in that good a shape.
...
Have you seen the new art at Jack's? It's awesome.
...
You can buy sponsorships for the Jack's Flugtag team. $20 gets whatever you can fit on a slip of paper (more or less), with that phrase printed on a t-shirt with the Jack's logo and other sponsor's messages for the Jack's Flugtag Team.
The T-Shirts themselves will be priced at $10, with proceeds going towards financing the Team's trip to Long Beach in August. Look for the Whiskey Avengers to make a showing at Jack's in support of the Team too, or so I hear.
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Saw Gabby on Sunday as I was leaving Jack's. She was dressed in black and looked painfully pretty.
Oh, yeah: Sunday fail. I'm sorry, Wendy. I really am.
...
See you Monday, so we can do this all over again. Take care until then, Dear Reader.
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