pUnK vs. PrEp

The mohawk didn’t happen. :( And the pink didn’t really show up (not the REAL pink anyway). The front was sprayed pink last minute. The dye turned it a plumy-purple that you can’t really see. But, all that aside, it was a good night. I was sick but Zicam helped a bit. However, honey-lemon cough drops give beer a slightly odd yet entirely enjoyable flavor. Good times. We went to Beth’s and got dressed and headed downtown in the town car. We rocked, you know it. We get to Café Caribe and the dining crowd is still there. We appear to be the only 80s people. *sweet* We enjoy the stares. Finally an older woman comes up to me in the bathroom:

“Is it 80s night or something tonight?”
I was tempted to say “No, why?” but she was being nice so I nodded and said, “indeed.”
“You look great. Seriously. I know you weren’t really around in the 80s, but you’re outfit takes me back to high school.” She smiles, wide-mouthed, “It’s great.”
“Thanks.”

Slowly, the 80s crowd emerge in various hues of blues and blacks and pinks. We sang, we danced, we got beer and other such liquids spilled on us by those who shall remain nameless. Will came on Ilene, again. *sigh* can’t take him anywhere.

After much fun and the finale of “thriller” we headed to, where else, pita pit. Oh the looks. Oh the fun. The best part of the evening occurred as we waited for our taxi. Beth was hiding inside uppercrust and Lark and I were on the sidewalk. A man passes, “It’s not Halloween!!” he says quite rudely.
“It’s 80s night, jackass”
“Do you even HAVE a home?” Lark can be mean when she’s been drinking and/or eating pitas. I almost wet myself.

Good times. Good times.