Sunday, July 27, 2008

Leave it to Beavo

Beavo, Bufus and the Bar, otherwise known as the Three B's, original owners of Dexter Roadhouse. Hardcore Nomeites and other visitors need no introduction to the Roadhouse, pictured at right, since they know it well as the place to go after the bars close at 2:00 AM.

Which is exactly where I ended up last night - in the first car to reach the Dexter after the lights came on in the B.O.T.

We did Front Street. Started at the Polar Bar, then worked our way down the row: B.O.T., Breakers, and the Anchor, and then back again - finally winding down (or up) at the B.O.T. where we rocked out under the disco ball winking through a fog of cigarette smoke.

What I drank: (1) Duck Fart (followed by a beer chaser), (1) Margarita (naturally followed by beer), (1) Jagermeister shot (followed by beer, you sense a pattern here), (1) green shot of something wicked strong, ordered on the strength of a tray of them going by in the B.O.T., (another beer), and then finally to wind it up, a T&T at the Dexter Roadhouse that I swear was pure gin.

That finished me. I got roped into a game of bean bags. Fortunately I am familiar with the game thanks to transplanted Nomeites* in Squarebanks. Unfortunately, I had shot past that window of alcohol-induced skill in beanbags, and came nowhere near close to hitting the board, let alone the hole. But I did hit very well our opponents on the other team. But then, my teammate was faring no better, nor were our opponents, so our game dissolved into a bunch of wildly flying beanbags interspersed with much hilarity and booze.

I oozed home about 5:30, but the party was still going strong at the Dexter.

A couple of laps around my guest shack in my PJs (and up and down 1st Ave) to stave off the queasies got me ready to sleep pass out, which I comfortably did by employing an old trick I learned in college: keep one foot on the floor to make the room stand still.

Four hours later I was up. Poured a couple cups of joe in me, downed a couple of aspirin, and headed out to Salmon Lake and Pilgrim River to fish. Hey, the sun was shining, no way I was going to lose a rare sunny day here to a hangover.

Yes, indeed, partied like a rock star Nomeite. And to boot, did it with no one peeing on my shoes, or spraying me with puke. I did, however, have to ask the three questions**.

*here a shout out is due to CabinDweller and her S.O. for introducing me to to the fine art of playing beanbags, either sober or half-shot.
** 1) Do you have a job? 2) Do you have a place to live? c) do you have a criminal record?


Ishmael said...

That would qualify as a long holiday weekend of carousing here on the Rock. Way to go!

CabinDweller said...

Ah, Flic, you lucky duck. Sounds like you did it up like a real Nomeite.

Catch any fish?

FlictheBic said...

no fish this time, but we didnt try all that hard.

Still, had a king last night for din-din and tonight its crab.

I'm job hunting.