Wednesday Night Rage

I remember back, just a few years ago, the days of the week were divided into the days of “rage” – that is, how likely someone it was that someone was going to be partying on that night. It went something like this.

  1. Saturday
  2. Friday
  3. Wednesday
  4. Thursday
  5. Sunday
  6. Monday
  7. Tuesday

Other Dartmouth folks can argue how accurate my list is, but we’re all pretty sure that Tuesday sucked. No one rages on Tuesday (and nobody rages anymore, but that’s the subject of another blog post). What you’ll notice, though, is that Wednesday and Thursday were up there. You could go out on one of those nights and generally find an open basement, some Keystone light, and someone willing to go a few rounds of pong with you. Even if you had to play Shrub.

Flash forward to 2011. Going out on a weeknight seems like the stuff of legend. You can only go out on a weeknight if you pull the cork from the Wine Bottle in the Stone. Otherwise, you’re stuck inside.

Now, it was easier to rage on a Thursday night when you lived approximately 60 paces from an area with loud speakers, ping pong tables, beer, and a floor so sticky Satan couldn’t have escaped. Drinking with Lovely Wife on a Thursday night isn’t quite the same as heading out, have a few drinks, being social, and all of the stuff I miss about weeknight drinking.

Wednesdays, of course, were a different beast. Fraternity meetings on Wednesday nights guaranteed you had a place to drink along with 40-50 of your closest friends (and enemies). You could go all out, hanging upside down from the rafters while everyone else sang, “America, The Beautiful,” or you could sit on the back bar and drink some Jack Daniels. Both were acceptable outcomes.

And then there were the nights where Red MD 40/40, White box wine, and Blue Boone’s Farm Malt Beverage seemed like a good idea. It wasn’t.

As I said earlier, Lovely Wife and I don’t often go out on weeknights – it’s no one’s fault, but there are a multitude of reasons for it. On two nights a week, I teach/play till very late. We also live in a black hole of nightlife, which means that we need to drive at least 20 minutes to find something entertaining. We’ve both started to work out in the evenings, which takes more time, and we’re cooking from scratch to get go through our veggie surplus. I procrastinate stuff during the day, which means I’ve got a pile of stuff to do that should have been done in random intervals during my work/school time. Lastly, Lovely Wife needs her 8 hours of sleep, so by the time we’ve finished enough stuff so that we can go out, it’s too late.

We generally get home, eat, chat, plop down, watch a little (or a lot of) TV, and then she’ll crash while I stay up “getting things done.” And by “getting things done,” I mean reading my blogs, watching SVU on Netflix, and thinking about what kind of blog post I’m going to make the following day. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I’ve talked a few times about Bolsa’s Wednesday night drink thing. We’ve enjoyed it the past 3 times we’ve gone, so we’re making it a Wednesday night thing. That’s right, Lovely Wife and I are being seen about town on a weeknight. Someone call the cops, because this shit is cuh-ray-zee.

Let’s call it an experiment. I get home on Wednesdays at 8pm. That means we eat, and then drive the 20-30 minutes to Bolsa to snag a drink or two. Then head home. That means we usually get home between 10:30 – 11, which, while being later than Lovely Wife would like, means that we have a social life on a weeknight. I get my shit done, she takes care of her stuff before we get home, and we go out and have two or three delightful drinks, and maybe a snack.

Here’s what the menu was last week (I suggested coffee as an ingredient)

Delicious. The Venti Double-Decaf Maker’s Mark-uccino was the best thing on the menu, and Lucky, the head bartender, told me that the coffee infused Maker’s was so good, they were considering adding it to the menu full time. I take partial credit for that. Sort of. Kind of.

So, in small steps, we’re taking back Wednesday night RAAAGE. Although with just a drink or two. And something well mixed, not a Woo Woo (officially girly drink of my house – peach schnapps, vodka, cranberry cocktail) made in bulk by a drunk frat dude (usually me). This week, we’re going to get another friend or two to come along with us, creating an even more social atmosphere. Crazy.

And to end, an appropriate quote from Dylan Thomas.

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

The rage beings anew.

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This entry was posted in Food, My Crazy, Stuff I Love. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Wednesday Night Rage

  1. SNslim says:

    Huck a bottle?

  2. Courtney says:

    Do it, man! Fight that fight! Don’t slide down that slippery slope into Fogieville!!

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