Tucson vs. Polynesia

Saturday was Geoff's birthday. We went to Kon-tiki, Tucson's Polynesian restaurant/bar. The decor consists of palm fronds stapled to the walls and sea shells hanging from plastic lamps. That, and an enormous monitor lizard that lives in an enormous glass case. However, the native species of Kon-tiki are scantily dressed women. Like, practically naked. Whenever we go there we end up whacking each other and discretely shrieking under our breath "look at that one!!". It's only a matter of time before we get punched in the face.

When I think of tropical isles, I think of relaxing beaches and friendly natives. Apparently Kon-tiki is more along the lines of a tropical isle that has been invaded by Nazi Germany. Because they have some mighty stringent rules in this paradise. Our three friends arrived about 30 minutes after us, and were within reach of our table when they got turned away by a massive bouncer. Now, at first I figured they mistook us for celebrities and were trying to protect our privacy. But when I went up to the front to rescue them, I got told by a snooty pseudo-Polynesian-whore-hostess (aka whorestess) started explaining something about how there were two different types of servers, and differences between dinner and drinks, and sometime about a rip in the space-time continuum that would swallow people whole if they attempted to sit with the "dinner" people when they weren't having dinner. Eventually a rather inebriated Geoff came over and charmed the whorestess into letting them sit with us, with a stern reminder not to allow anyone else to come to our table and spend money on their establishment

This was our general response to their decrees. We retaliated by becoming drunk and disorderly. Eventually Geoff psyched himself up enough, he decided he needed to channel the Ramones. He did a fabulous rendition of "24 Hours To Go", including waggling tongues, and exhortations to the various ladies to get in on the action. Eventually, however, he was ready to go home. And possibly vomit.

I had several entertaining conversations throughout the night:

Me: *talking about something intellectually stimulating*

Teresa: "You know who you remind me of? Buffy."

Me: "Why?"

Teresa: ""You know, she has....a face....and that high pitched voice....and blond hair"

Me: "Do you realize you just based that comparison on the fact that I have a face and an annoying voice?!"

Teresa: "I didn't say annoying, I said high pitched. You know, like you're from California."

Me: "That's even worse!!!"

While Geoff and I were standing at the gas station waiting for Danny:

Geoff, sounding outraged: "Mia, why are you not in Norway chopping down trees?!"

Me: "........"

At the Depot:
Phill: "Is it rude to stare at the waitress' tits?"

Me: "Yes."

Phill: "What if she doesn't notice?"

Me: "Phill, you're drunk. You may not be as subtle as you think right now."

Phill: "What do you think Danny would say if I told him you have nice tits?"

Me: "He'd probably say he knows."

Danny walks in

Phill: "Danny, Mia has a nice rack."

Danny: "Thanks, I know."

So, happy birthday Geoff. It was a pleasure driving your drunk ass home :)