The Saddest Place On Earth

During my childhood, I learned a few concrete things. There are too many to name, but I'll check off the highlights that are coming to me at this moment:

1. The General Lee was better than Kit from Knight Rider. If I have to choose between kickass cars, I'm choosing the one that doesn't have an opinion about every fucking thing. I wonder how I could apply this philosophy to the rest of my life? Hmmm...

2. "The Mouse and the Motorcycle" is the greatest work in the history of literature.

3. He-Man, the Transformers, and Thundercats are all the heroes a boy needs to be happy and inspired by the world around him.

4. Disneyland was full of rides and assorted other shit that I didn't know about because I never went there. But it was not only nirvana for every child under ten, it was the "Happiest Place On Earth".

5. Winnie Cooper was the end all, be all of girls.


Now those five are just a sampling of the depth of useful knowledge I had as a young man. If you're thirsting for anymore of my knowledge, I'm willing to pass it on to you. If there was ever an asshole who wanted to tell you what he thought, it was me. But I digress...

Number 4 on that list is the one that always troubled me. Because if there truly was a "Happiest Place On Earth", then there had to be a saddest place on earth, right?

The other night, I went there. It was a place I had been before, but only the other night did it truly dawn on me the revelation I had uncovered. If you've ever been to Norman, Oklahoma and desire to stare into the heart of darkness, go to a place called Suger's. Unlike other places that use misspelling as some sort of trendy trademark, Suger's certainly does not fall into the category of "trendy"--unless the term "trendy" now means "last stop before the planned murder-suicide commences". Some of you know this place, know of it, and some of you are clueless. I'll keep this short because there isn't much explanation needed.

Suger's is supposed to be a strip club. No, it never fancied itself to be a "gentlemen's club". It kept its expectations low. And if there is one thing that should characterize your visit to Suger's, it's low expectations. Let me explain how I got there and set the scene:

Ever since the big, fun change in my life, my friends have been great. They probably ask me if I'm doing okay a little too much and I probably overexplain why I'm doing okay as often. One of these friends is Lesley, another ex-girlfriend (yes, I know it's eerie, but note the spelling) who has over the years become a pretty dear friend. Lesley is also one of the most unique people I know. And yeah, that makes her pretty fucking strange sometimes, but I love that about her. She is the only true artist that I know--or at least the most diverse one I know. She writes, both fiction and music, plays an instrument, paints and draws, etc. With this eccentricity comes some interesting choices in terms of the places she likes to hang out. So after going to a regular bar to have a drink, she decided we were going to Suger's. Now Suger's, despite the fact that it's always been a shithole, used to at least be a busy shithole. But when I finally walked in...

The place was about as depressing as your mom's funeral. There were two "dancers" on duty that night. TWO. On a Thursday night near a college campus. I won't get into deep description of these two "ladies", but here's all you need to know.

"Dancer" 1: Skinny to the point of looking like an eating disorder might be in play. Oh yeah, and jack-o-lantern teeth probably dissuaded me from engaging her in meaningful conversation.

"Dancer" 2: The only three characteristics you need to know: A. Man/Horse face B. Stretch marked beyond recognition C. She was either fifty or an EXTREMELY hard forty-five.

The only thing worse than an indifferent stripper who can't dance is an UGLY and indifferent stripper who can't dance. I stuck around long enough to win a game of pool and drink a few beers before mercifully departing. I left Suger's that evening knowing that I had undoubtedly just experienced the "Sadddest Place On Earth". I've given thought to approaching their management about coining that phrase on their behalf. But I'm afraid they might force me into watching more of their "live entertainment". Oh, the tragedy of a strip club that was never good that finds a way to be even worse. Suger's is now more just a bar where unattractive women might happen to get topless than an actual strip club. Only unlike any other normal bar where you'd consider this a cool bonus, at Suger's you can't help feeling like you're being punished for something you've done wrong. Considering all of the events of the past week, this was the closest I got to actually getting depressed. It took the loss of a beautiful woman to actually get me to see the potential beauty of my future. And it took prolonged exposure to unfortunate-looking strippers to curb my enthusiasm. This must be what they refer to as balanced perspective.

Song of the Day: "Empty Cans"
Artist: The Streets
Album: A Grand Don't Come For Free
Lyric of Possible Relevance:

"The end of the something I did not want to end, beginning of hard times to come. But something that was not meant to be is done, and this is the start of what was."