I went out on Friday. Heidi, in celebration of another semester in the bank, hosted a pub crawl, down in Westport, and the Plaza. The plan was to meet at her house, near 48th and Holly, at 8PM. Not one to attract Kansas City's finest, I made a beeline for the nearest MAX stop, and watched it roll past me, about a block and a half before I got there. It was cold outside, and unlike the extreme cold of last week, this cold was accompanied by downtown's normally fierce wind. You will understand then, that I used a bad word at this point. When I got to the MAX stop, the sign said the next bus would be along in 35 minutes. Not enthusiastic about waiting around in the biting cold, I walked over to the 10th & Main transit plaza, and saw that the 57, which would actually take me closer to my target, would depart in ten minutes.
Thirty minutes later, I stepped off the bus in the middle of the Plaza, at 47th and Wornall. The number of people on the Plaza at any given time always surprises me, especially so, on a night of such inhospitable weather. Nevertheless, people were out in droves, strolling KC's biggest attraction on a Friday night, as I walked toward to ATM to get some cash, and up the hill to get to Heidi's house.
When I arrived at her doorstep, I was still huffing and puffing from the hill, and moreso, because my sister called me for the last half of the hill, so my heavy breathing was stifled with conversation. I need to exercise more.
I was dismayed when I reached the door, and it appeared that nobody was home. For a brief period, I cursed Heidi's name, imagining the scenario of her leaving without a thought of people that arrived without cars. The period was brief, however, because she came to the door after a relatively short time, and I happily walked inside, out of the cold.
Heidi's roommate, Carrie, got home just after I walked in, ate, got dressed, and we left for stop one on the evening's crawl: Kelly's in Westport. After we left Kelly's, for Harpo's, we all remarked seperately that we hate Kelly's. From Harpo's however, we went to what is possibly my least favorite bar in Kansas City: The Granfalloon. A marvel in backward design, the "falloon" is laid out so poorly, it feels jammed with only half capacity, which is still a lot of people. The bathrooms are back behind a bottleneck point between the stairs and the wall, the narrowest point of which perhaps two people can comfortably stand abreast. This trouble spot is also right next to the coathooks, and the front door.
Besides this, the Falloon is notorious for attracting the suburbiest of the suburbanites, most of whom don't see the virtue in getting away from the bar once they have their drink, so others can place an order. But we had to go, because we were meeting people there.
But here's the thing: I had a great time. Josh had joined us by this time, and he always spices up an evening well, especially when surrounded by attractive women, and getting dirty looks from other guys in the bar. Like a moron, I both recommended and partook in a group shot of Jameson, and as a result, spent the next couple of minutes fighting the urge to vomit. It was then that we all decided it about about time to head home.
You've got to hand it to Heidi. She can sure throw a good time together.