To be absolutely honest, I can never really figure out where to begin this kind of story…read more
But if I shall be so bold, I WILL say that the adventure's climax occurred about two hours AFTER I'd crossed the threshold of Ohm Nightclub and Bar, of Lubbock, TX, and into the orbit of a man with whom I'd spend the next few weeks in a state of elevated spiritual awareness, but then I got stabbed.
Long story short: I basically met God, or rather: "the goddess," this chick named Diane. She was intense, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
It's difficult to rest a fingertip upon this story's exposed nerve. Where does one declare: "in the beginning"? and at which precise moment is it appropriate to collapse into the cozy armchair of a definitive "THE END"?
Let's go back a few days, to North Little Rock, Arkansas.
Peter (my companion) had recommended we rendezvous at "Sir Loins Inn" for brunch, which is a medieval-themed steak house, and (frustratingly) not the LGBTQA dance club we'd hoped to experience. I mean: Sir Loins Inn. COME ON
Peter was wearing mustard-yellow Adidas three-stripe break-aways, and his hair was braided in the fashionable "corn row" manner. Seated as we were in tall, high-back throne-like chairs, our needs attended to by a staff of dark-ages-costumed knaves and whatnot, Peter looked magnificent, something like a Caucasian blend of Lionel Richie, and that cool keyboard player in Prince's band "The Revolution." You know: the guy in the doctor's outfit, but not the doctor keyboard player from Night Ranger, if that means anything to you, because it should.
Pete was chewing thoughtfully upon steak tip onion rings, and after some debate (and rising distress on my part that he'd been literally chewing upon the same "tip" of meat for 46 minutes), we'd agreed to roll a custom-made 17-sided dice to settle a decision regarding our next stop on an westward sojourn we'd hoped would culminate in Clovis, NM.
After several rolls, we decided to head towards Clovis immediately. We popped a few caffeine pills and hit the road.
Nine hours and 36 minutes later, we arrived in Lubbock, and we both had to urinate so badly I literally thought I was about to literally die.
We parked his Pontiac Le-mans, and ran indoors. The bar's lay-out was incredible, far as I could tell, as I ran through the establishment, and into the restrooms. That first impression was a bit of a blur, to be honest.
The urinal has this cool little air-freshener "fan" thingy that you pee on. The more you pee, the faster it goes, an eventually it ends with a fortune. Mine said "basically everyone has HPV," which was really helpful advice. Timely, actually.
Peter and I settled in at the bar, and had a few cold ones. The bar was HOPPING. I will never forget it. At the time it seemed as if I had never before seen so many attractive men and women not on the freeway.
A man approached, and said hello. His name was Ray, Ray Stubbs, as I recall, and he said something really cool like "I'm about to introduce you to God, man, and it's going to be amazing."
I remember saying something like "that sounds cool," but then Ray said "but don't say anything to her about (X) or she will straight-up stab you."
And in that, Ray was not wrong. Diane totally stabbed me, but that wasn't until later. It didn't happen at Ohm. We actually had a super good time there. Food was great, DJ was amazing, and upon reflection I liked not getting stabbed there, not even once.
That happened later
