So here I am in Omaha. Wooooohoo for insomnia!!

Anyway, my hotel is right in downtown and all of the bars/pub/lounges/clubs/late night coffeehouses are only a couple of blocks from here, so I decided I'd go check it out. While doing this, I made three mistakes.

1) I walked into the bar that was poorly lit that had loud techno music playing. Why was I drawn to the techno music? Because Kansas (where I had spent most of my driving day) has only three kinds stations: Talk, country, and contemporary Christian. Finally hearing a strong beat that made me want to nod my head in rhythm drew me in like a fat man encountering his first Krispy Kremes. The bar turned out to be a Coyote Ugly wannabe-type place, where they had their "hot" (no) female bartenders dress in very tight clothing in order to attract loads and loads of single desperate men who think they have a shot with said "hot" (no) bartenders.

2) I was genuinely friendly to the "hot" (no) bartender. I ordered my Long Island iced tea, looked her in the eye, and smiled. So she gave me some extra vodka in my drink. Given that I have minimal (at best) experience with alcoholic beverages, I knew that extra vodka would be exactly something I wouldn't want. But it was too late; she had poured the drink, and winked her wink, and I was left to let it sink. Golly, I'm clever.

3) In my desperation to get out of there, I drank my long island iced tea entirely too fast just before remembering that I hadn't eaten in about nine hours. But I was not (yet) feeling any sort of effects at that point, so I chose then to stand up and leave.

I walked about a block over to a coffee shop where I heard some funky R&B music playing. I stepped inside too late to notice that doing so made me the only white person in the room who wasn't wearing an apron. But I was commited at this point, and I knew I would need some caffeine very shortly, so I went ahead and got myself a mocha. I sat down just as I was started to get a little lightheaded.

I listened to the music, which was really quite good, and chugged my coffee. By the time I was halfway through the cup of coffee, I realized I was moving to the music while sitting in my chair. Nothing too embarrassing, just nodding a little bit while making a weird face and closing my eyes. I stopped, but it was too late; I'd been spotted by the lady on the other side of the couches. She laughed. The loud kind of laugh that reminds me of movies like "Beauty Shop" and "The Bar-B-Q." Not that I've seen those movies, but I was reminded of them. So I finished my coffee, tipped the band, and left.

Well, I say "left" as though it were one smooth motion. In reality I stood up, looked down at myself, looked at the band, looked at the laughing woman, looked at the coffee bar, looked outside, looked at myself again, then the band, then myself, then my back pocket, then my wallet, then my money, then the money jar for the band, and then the money I decided to put in the jar, and then the door, then myself again, then I started to walk out.

It was then that I knew I would not be having anything else to drink tonight.

So I went by a pizza place that was still open, had a nice filling meal and a pleasant, coherent conversation with my waitress as the effects started wearing off, and then walked back to the hotel. And that pretty much brings us up to date. Not the most interesting nor is it the funniest "night on the town" story you will ever hear, but it is the only one I've got. Huzzah and all that jazz. Tomorrow is baseball. Hooray baseball.

Listening to - Boulevard of Broken Dreams by Green Day