Oh Childe of the Moon, Bid the Sun Arise
Looks like another D.C. institution has closed it's doors. Kudos to DCist for breaking the story to me....the Childe Harold is no more.
I guess I'm one of those asshats who can't stand to see anything change around here without lecturing everyone about the way things used to be before you moved your special ass here......goddamn, I'm going to make a great old man someday. Or perhaps a truly awful one.
Anyway, despite numerous visits over the years, I have only one special story about the Childe Harold. But it was a defining one.
It's a long story, and much like many of my best stories, it is full of self-loathing and defeat. Maybe someday I'll get the discipline together to write it down in full. But until then, here are the key learnings of it all:
- IF you've been chasing a girl for the better part of a year with only a few dates to show for it, and IF she finally agrees to meet you for happy hour on a Friday, you should see this as a opportunity.
- AND IF she is simply the single hottest girl you've ever dated, you should probably try and impress her by taking her someplace other than the Childe Harold. (You should probably also not wear el cheapo Docksiders with athletic socks, but my problems this evening, it would turn out, were bigger than this).
- IF ALSO, you realize in the middle of this date that you are on the brink of needing to take a giant, grumbling, belt-loosening poop, you should not panic. Even if it means waiting in line to take a dump in the abhorrent Childe Harold men's room. (At the end of the night, discreetly evacuating your insides may be, in fact, the only thing you do right all evening).
- SHOULD YOU somehow manage to get this far into the evening, and notice that the hot girl you are with develops a great big case of the drunkies, you should proceed with great caution and much patience.
- AND IF the conversations turn to deeply personal matters, whereupon she shares secrets of embarrassing incidents and shameful experiences, you should listen and be sympathetic. You should probably not giggle and try to one-up her with more embarrassing and shameful stories of your own. (But really, that's your call on that one).
- IF SOMEHOW, in the midst of these extremely personal confessions, this very hot girl should inform you that she's been going through a sexual identity crisis that is troubling her, you SHOULD NOT INTERRUPT HER BY KISSING HER.
- Let's repeat this last part. If the hot girl tells you that she slept with this one girl a few times, and that she really loves and cares about the girl, even though she knows that she herself isn't a lesbian (and if she also confesses to you that she's not as comfortable with the sex as she thought she'd be -- despite calling it "incredible and so different"), you shouldn't fucking interrupt her. You also shouldn't kiss her while she's sharing this story with you. No matter how much of a boner she gives you while she tells you all this stuff.
- AND WHEN she confesses that this girl she had girl-sex with bought her a computer and helped her with cash when things got tight, you totally should NOT giggle and tell her that she has a sugar-mama.
- IF you do any combination of the above things, you will substantially increase your chances of having the worst date in a lifetime of disappointing evenings with women.
- ONE WAY to ensure that this happens is if you agree to go to a 17th street gay club with her after drinking 10 beers at the Childe Harold. (But it was good of you to pick up the tab, dude).
- ANOTHER WAY to ensure a bad night is, if she stops at her condo on the way to the gay club, and if you take this as a sign that she's finally ready to kiss.
- IF SOMEHOW, she decides that she still wants to go to that gay club with you....Well, then take it from me, chillens. Bitch is settin' you up. But you kind of deserve it a little (....I guess).
- IF SHE keeps teasing you in the gay club and encouraging you to dance with the latin boys, DON'T DO IT. They dance WAY WAY better than you, and you'll look really fucking dorky...And don't think for a second that the brown shoes and the white socks are lost on them. They're laughin' at you. (And, don't look now, but so is she).
- IF SHE THEN becomes bloated and less beautiful by the moment, you probably shouldn't be totally surprised if she grabs you for no good reason and starts making out with you.
- BUT, SERIOUSLY, she not doing it because she likes you. By this point, she will have hated you for a good hour, maybe two. Maybe forever. No one knows why she's doing it. Don't try and figure it out because it'll make you crazy as a shithouse rat. Which is maybe what she wants. (It'll be a really bad kiss, anyway).
- IF at the end of the evening, she wants to go to a shitty steakhouse at order surf and turf on your dime, well, you have no one but yourself to blame for letting this come to fruition.
- AND IF, during this $50.00 2:00 AM meal, she orders a bloody mary...Well, fuck dude, you might as well let it slide and maybe order for yourself. The night ain't getting any better from here.
- OH, AND if in the middle of the meal she tells you that this evening was a total waste of time, you probably shouldn't get indignant and show her that your feelings are really hurt. You'll be embarrassed about this reaction for years and years. (You'll also forever hear in the back of your head the giggles and snickers coming from the drunk-ass gay dudes in the booth behind you).
- IF ALSO she tells you during this meal, that "you're this super-intelligent guy who is totally confused about his sexuality...." Well, if this happens, it would benefit you - benefit you greatly, in fact - to focus on the former part of the statement, and not the latter. But you totally won't, which is a shame...because years later, you'll kind of smile a little when you remember the image of this angry, hateful, kind of beautiful but mostly really, REALLY drunk chick, being the first person ever (in your whole, damned life...the first person EVER) to tell you that you're intelligent. And, trust me, if you get to 26 and no one's ever told you that, you'll want to remember it without a bunch of self-imposed hang-ups cluttering things.
- THIS DOES NOT mean that you won't beat yourself up for the special girl thinking you're gay. You totally will, even though you totally shouldn't. (Because, my man, a LOT of people thought you were gay or kind of weird or something back then. Don't trouble yourself defending yourself...No one said you were a damned queen, but you were different in ways people didn't understand, ok???)
- IF THEN she asks you to walk her to the door, and she ten tells you that she's completely tried to drink herself into a blackout so she'll never remember this awful experience, you should probably try and ignore that comment. And when she stumbles into you at the end of it all and asks for a hug, you would be a good guy for giving her that limp little hug you gave her. (And you're also a good guy for not grabbing one of those amazing boobs or asscheeks out of spite. True, she was going to black out anyway, and true, she wasn't going to hate you any more than she already did. But still, only a bad person would take advantage of all that just to touch her firm, round woman parts. So, you know, try and hold on to whatever dignity you've got, and be the good guy that you are).
- AND IF you find yourself in a happy relationship someday, and wondering -- honestly baffled -- at how you ever could have gotten so caught up in that drunk girl, well, it probably means that life turned out pretty ok for you.
- HOWEVER, IF you end up writing about it on the Internets, you're still kind of an insecure ass.
-EITHER WAY, now that the C.H. is gone forever, no one will ever have to make the mistakes I made.
I guess I'm one of those asshats who can't stand to see anything change around here without lecturing everyone about the way things used to be before you moved your special ass here......goddamn, I'm going to make a great old man someday. Or perhaps a truly awful one.
Anyway, despite numerous visits over the years, I have only one special story about the Childe Harold. But it was a defining one.
It's a long story, and much like many of my best stories, it is full of self-loathing and defeat. Maybe someday I'll get the discipline together to write it down in full. But until then, here are the key learnings of it all:
- IF you've been chasing a girl for the better part of a year with only a few dates to show for it, and IF she finally agrees to meet you for happy hour on a Friday, you should see this as a opportunity.
- AND IF she is simply the single hottest girl you've ever dated, you should probably try and impress her by taking her someplace other than the Childe Harold. (You should probably also not wear el cheapo Docksiders with athletic socks, but my problems this evening, it would turn out, were bigger than this).
- IF ALSO, you realize in the middle of this date that you are on the brink of needing to take a giant, grumbling, belt-loosening poop, you should not panic. Even if it means waiting in line to take a dump in the abhorrent Childe Harold men's room. (At the end of the night, discreetly evacuating your insides may be, in fact, the only thing you do right all evening).
- SHOULD YOU somehow manage to get this far into the evening, and notice that the hot girl you are with develops a great big case of the drunkies, you should proceed with great caution and much patience.
- AND IF the conversations turn to deeply personal matters, whereupon she shares secrets of embarrassing incidents and shameful experiences, you should listen and be sympathetic. You should probably not giggle and try to one-up her with more embarrassing and shameful stories of your own. (But really, that's your call on that one).
- IF SOMEHOW, in the midst of these extremely personal confessions, this very hot girl should inform you that she's been going through a sexual identity crisis that is troubling her, you SHOULD NOT INTERRUPT HER BY KISSING HER.
- Let's repeat this last part. If the hot girl tells you that she slept with this one girl a few times, and that she really loves and cares about the girl, even though she knows that she herself isn't a lesbian (and if she also confesses to you that she's not as comfortable with the sex as she thought she'd be -- despite calling it "incredible and so different"), you shouldn't fucking interrupt her. You also shouldn't kiss her while she's sharing this story with you. No matter how much of a boner she gives you while she tells you all this stuff.
- AND WHEN she confesses that this girl she had girl-sex with bought her a computer and helped her with cash when things got tight, you totally should NOT giggle and tell her that she has a sugar-mama.
- IF you do any combination of the above things, you will substantially increase your chances of having the worst date in a lifetime of disappointing evenings with women.
- ONE WAY to ensure that this happens is if you agree to go to a 17th street gay club with her after drinking 10 beers at the Childe Harold. (But it was good of you to pick up the tab, dude).
- ANOTHER WAY to ensure a bad night is, if she stops at her condo on the way to the gay club, and if you take this as a sign that she's finally ready to kiss.
- IF SOMEHOW, she decides that she still wants to go to that gay club with you....Well, then take it from me, chillens. Bitch is settin' you up. But you kind of deserve it a little (....I guess).
- IF SHE keeps teasing you in the gay club and encouraging you to dance with the latin boys, DON'T DO IT. They dance WAY WAY better than you, and you'll look really fucking dorky...And don't think for a second that the brown shoes and the white socks are lost on them. They're laughin' at you. (And, don't look now, but so is she).
- IF SHE THEN becomes bloated and less beautiful by the moment, you probably shouldn't be totally surprised if she grabs you for no good reason and starts making out with you.
- BUT, SERIOUSLY, she not doing it because she likes you. By this point, she will have hated you for a good hour, maybe two. Maybe forever. No one knows why she's doing it. Don't try and figure it out because it'll make you crazy as a shithouse rat. Which is maybe what she wants. (It'll be a really bad kiss, anyway).
- IF at the end of the evening, she wants to go to a shitty steakhouse at order surf and turf on your dime, well, you have no one but yourself to blame for letting this come to fruition.
- AND IF, during this $50.00 2:00 AM meal, she orders a bloody mary...Well, fuck dude, you might as well let it slide and maybe order for yourself. The night ain't getting any better from here.
- OH, AND if in the middle of the meal she tells you that this evening was a total waste of time, you probably shouldn't get indignant and show her that your feelings are really hurt. You'll be embarrassed about this reaction for years and years. (You'll also forever hear in the back of your head the giggles and snickers coming from the drunk-ass gay dudes in the booth behind you).
- IF ALSO she tells you during this meal, that "you're this super-intelligent guy who is totally confused about his sexuality...." Well, if this happens, it would benefit you - benefit you greatly, in fact - to focus on the former part of the statement, and not the latter. But you totally won't, which is a shame...because years later, you'll kind of smile a little when you remember the image of this angry, hateful, kind of beautiful but mostly really, REALLY drunk chick, being the first person ever (in your whole, damned life...the first person EVER) to tell you that you're intelligent. And, trust me, if you get to 26 and no one's ever told you that, you'll want to remember it without a bunch of self-imposed hang-ups cluttering things.
- THIS DOES NOT mean that you won't beat yourself up for the special girl thinking you're gay. You totally will, even though you totally shouldn't. (Because, my man, a LOT of people thought you were gay or kind of weird or something back then. Don't trouble yourself defending yourself...No one said you were a damned queen, but you were different in ways people didn't understand, ok???)
- IF THEN she asks you to walk her to the door, and she ten tells you that she's completely tried to drink herself into a blackout so she'll never remember this awful experience, you should probably try and ignore that comment. And when she stumbles into you at the end of it all and asks for a hug, you would be a good guy for giving her that limp little hug you gave her. (And you're also a good guy for not grabbing one of those amazing boobs or asscheeks out of spite. True, she was going to black out anyway, and true, she wasn't going to hate you any more than she already did. But still, only a bad person would take advantage of all that just to touch her firm, round woman parts. So, you know, try and hold on to whatever dignity you've got, and be the good guy that you are).
- AND IF you find yourself in a happy relationship someday, and wondering -- honestly baffled -- at how you ever could have gotten so caught up in that drunk girl, well, it probably means that life turned out pretty ok for you.
- HOWEVER, IF you end up writing about it on the Internets, you're still kind of an insecure ass.
-EITHER WAY, now that the C.H. is gone forever, no one will ever have to make the mistakes I made.
posted by t-o-n at 5:54 PM
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