KegBus: Pirates and Geisers and AdMo, Oh My!

This must be done again! If I wanted to write down all the awesome things about Friday night's kegbus excursion, this blog would become a tome rivaling the other great adventure involving fearless warriors on a vessel bound for glory who have to overcome grave obstacles along the way. Alas, The Odyssey this isn't, so please settle for the cliffnotes and rue the day you decided not to come aboard.

Our story begins at the Rosslyn Metro station, where 25 brave yuppies climbed up the four steps to enter our home base for the evening. The bus was essentially a glorified limo, with long leather black couches, a card table, strobe lights, "dance rails," several coolers, a bathroom (thankfully), DVD players (wish we'd known ahead of time!), and a sound system. DJ Allie C. got the night started off right, putting in the first of her two delightful "KegBus Mixes" that began, for obvious reasons, with OutKast's "Rosa Parks." Our soundtrack would continue to surprise and amaze the rest of the evening, causing quite eclectic sing-alongs ranging from Crash Test Dummies' "Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm Mmmm," to John Denver's "Country Roads" to The Toadies' "Possum Kingdom." And let me tell you, you haven't lived until you've seen a bus full of people belting out Biz Marquee's "Just a Friend" at the top of their lungs!

First stop: Piratz Tavern in Silver Spring, Maryland (yup). Words cannot describe the awesomeness of this place. Waitstaff dressed as pirates who had clearly been drinking since noon. Even more "pirate-y" pirates who went from table to table singing sea shanteys and collecting tips for their troubles. Pitchers of Grog, which would later turn out to be a disastrous mix of Dark Rum, Spiced Rum, White Rum, Rum Rum, sugar water, and cloves. Several people said it "tasted like Christmas," but I think they'd all agree that the Baby Jesus would not approve of its aftereffects. Indeed, the Grog made for some memorable moments. Drunk waiters sang a 15-minute song, the only part of which I can remember is: "Be careful when you use your private parts, for you won't know something's wrong until the burning starts." Speaking of burning, someone told the waitress (named Poppet) that it was my birthday, so I had the honor of drinking a flaming shot of 169 proof rum and cinnamon schnapps. Yeah, thanks for that. Greg dressed like a pirate, complete with an eye patch rendering him as useless as a Cyclops. Adam almost murdered the drunkest pirate waiter when he "posed" for a picture wherein he thrust a real, sharp knife at the poor waiter's throat. Thankfully the latter was too intoxicated to care, otherwise we might have all been asked to walk the plank.

Our turkey leg bones cleared, we set sail for the National Harbor, to pay visit to the dueling piano bar there called Bobby McKey's. Unfortunately, this place should instead be called Bobby McGeiser's, because the crowd consisted mostly of old tourists with bad tattoos and even worse taste in music. Seriously, the crowd of 200+ could not have been less interesting, just sitting there watching the pianists with Tony Little haircuts and Hawaiian shirts play boring songs from the 60s. They were no Sirens. Sorry for the anger, I think I'm just still upset I paid $120 for 10 terrible tequila shots that did nothing to improve the atmosphere at Bobby McKey's and would lead to problems down the road...

But back to the good stuff. We cut our visit short at the National Harbor in favor of more reliable entertainment: Adam's Morgan. The ride to AdMo was a sight to behold. A dance party like none before or none to come. Laser lights marking the smiling faces of A-to-Zers. Accidental dogpiles caused by bumps in the road. When we reached our final destination, we abandoned hopes of getting into Reef as intended, and the party dispersed. Half were drawn to Madam's Organ (that dastardly Scilla), while the other half got sucked into the Charybdis-like vortex that is Peyote-Brass Monkey-Spaghetti Garden. Karaoke was sung. Jumbo slice was eaten. More dancing was done. I speak in the passive because I cannot recall actively doing these things. This is the part where the blog goes interactive and you, dear readers, fill in the rest of the evening. I can only assume the bus took everyone home safely, except for Paul S., who I am told walked to Columbia Heights and ate waffles until 5am.

Thanks for an amazing evening. It will be truly hard to top but I can only hope we try.

All-star of the evening: "Doctor Oblivion," a regular at Piratz Tavern who lost a game of spin the bottle truth or dare with Max, and as punishment had the pleasure of wishing me a "happy birthday." Oh, just see for yourself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WBEo7U-TMd8