Mr. Vines, Mr. Daniels, and a free meal (?) Oh My.

All week I’ve been thinking about eating an actual meal at a bar found on 5th street in the Oregon District called Blind Bob’s. It’s one of many on this street, but the music isn’t bad, and I’ve spent a few drunk nights here (definitely made out with a cute bartender during my… Let’s be awkward… Stage of my twenties) and the music and crowd is good enough for me to come back. So I went for a meal (BLT, all the toppings, and chips), and I haven’t eaten all day, so of course I drink that first crown and coke that I ordered with a fury. What better way to end a rough day? Mmm bacon… Mmm mayo… Mmm carbs….

Time for a cigarette and I’m back to order my second drink. Mind you I’m about 15 minutes from home so I do have to be careful and I try to close out my tab after I order.  “Your total is $6 bucks.” “Oh I had a BLT and another drink?” (Mind you the sandwich was so good, not sure if it was the hunger or actually good… I hate tomatoes and onion, but I could eat this BLT a million times over) *re-enter bartender in my semi food happy coma and feeling really honest, I’d totally pay for this shit* “ohhh….somebody already paid for that…for you… He paid your tab… Not sure if I’m supposed to tell you who it was though.” Okay so I’m confused. “Oh wow, thanks? Who paid for this?” “He’s a nice lad and has a good heart.” That’s the last thing he told me but I let it go (unusual for me, I wanted to thank the guy who bought my dinner)… People buy my drinks often, and it’s totally out of pity. Why is this decent girl with a smile sitting alone? How many shots until she’s drunk enough to hit on her? (5 — 5 shots and I’m almost guaranteed to be making out with you). Oh well, I’m still thankful. Thanks guy, not sure who you are (yet) even with a quick look around the bar to see if anyone is watching me pay. And that is when the Carolina Panthers start playing and Mr. Vines wants to hold a conversation.

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(Me and Mr. Vines… the Brown Street Pimp… he asked for a selfie, how could I say no?)

Oh Mr. Vines… Also known as the Brown Street Pimp from 1987 to 2014. He’s got a lot of internet cred and a decently cool guy. But he’ll talk your ear off. I got to see pictures of him in a pimp suit with a black chick cut out from a cheap nudie magazine. When he asked for my phone number… I may have given him my work number. It’s not because I didn’t want to hold a conversation with this man, I did keep talking to him, just didn’t want to get a call to my cell on the regs.

When Mr. Vines takes a smoke break, in comes Mr. Daniels. He taught the “mentally challenged and criminal students” of Dayton Public schools for over 20 years and just retired about 2 years ago. Mr. Daniels was drunk on 151 and I couldn’t understand anything except he loves music and wanted to play the jukebox (but it was taken by some hipster kids). He was really passionate about the music though and I hope to one day find something that when I talk, others feel my passion. Even if I’m wasted. 😉

Mr. Vines came back and started talking with me again. Random questions like what’s my horoscope, how long have I lived in Dayton, and if I was ready for winter. But 2 cigarettes bummed and a borrowed phone call later with Mr. Vines and I just wanted to watch football and drink so I tried to leave for a bar down the street. But before I left I went back to the bartender. I needed to know who bought my meal and first drink. That’s when I asked who bought it. He hesitates and says to me “he’s really nice… And a bigger guy… And his name is…”
[Insert the cute bartender I made out with in the past.] Well this is awkward.

That’s when I left and Mr. Vines walked me to my car. You can think it’s creepy, but he’s been walking these streets (better yet riding a bicycle) for 27 years and wanted to be sure I was safe. So I headed back home. And that is where I am. Just kidding, bar stop first, I’m sitting at comfortable King’s Table. And by comfortable I mean I’ve been here two handfuls of times and they’re starting to learn my name. But tonight was a good night of learning the Dayton originals. And at least I’ve still got it… Free meal for making out with a guy months ago? That’s fine. More $$ for booze.

Kids be safe out there but don’t assume you’re too good to talk to the weirdos.

“I’ve had some of my best conversations with strangers, she said, because they have no idea who they’re dealing with.”

Catch ya on the flip side, Cuties.

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Did I really just start a blog?

Hey Kids… I guess it’s time to get this shit started.

Welcome to Sassy stories with Karamazing… of course I am Karamazing and we’re about to get really close. Cuddle up and get comfy…
(I should introduce sultry radio shows on Sirius)

So I’ve been toying with this idea about my blog and how I want it to exist in this world. I want to write the crappy bar experiences I have and give something to the other single ladies out there to relate to. But I have a different single lady in mind. The kind of woman who is or wants to be fully okay with being alone. It’s not that bad on this side of the fence. You get to do whatever the fuck you want, whenever you want.

Okay, so this kind of limits me. 

Not only do I want single ladies to relate to my stories of all things drunken bar hangs, but I also want the Hot Mama’s out there to relate as well. So I don’t have kids (the world is lucky for that right now) but I have a few friends who do. And I’ve talked to them about this bar blog, and I want to share their stories of single mom awkward bar conversations. Before you tell me that a mom should not be at the bar… ALL LADIES DESERVE TO HAVE FUN. As long as their kid isn’t in the car while their taking shots, and they are with a responsible adult, every mommy gets at least one night off.

So feel free to hang out here for a minute, and check out the latest experiences. Leave comments of questions, concerns, and advice. All thoughts are welcome. Almost all thoughts are welcome. If you’re going to be close minded and well just a fucking meany, take that shit to a blog about Oprah. Did you know she makes $10 a second.? Fact. Be rude about her life, because she doesn’t NEED $10 a second. Nobody does.

Wooooosaaaaa. Think Shots.

Kara's Personal Photos 555
(Remember that one time someone bought me a shot of Bacardi 151 as a birthday gift?)

Alright, so this is a good start, I’m excited. But I did work a long day today, and just need to go eat some food and take a shot or two. Hopefully (no, for sure) something weird will happen and you can check back in a bit for awesome stories from this little ball of sassy. Oh, and cut me some slack while I get this blog built and cool looking. Any wordpress support out there is also welcome!! 🙂

One other thing… Motivational quotes are what have gotten me through a lot of annoying and depressing nights. So I’d like to try and share one with you every post I have.
“Be Kind… For everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

Later Gators.