Met two different girls last week in Eureka, CA. 

Ever been to Eureka? It's like a mini-San Fran.

'Cept there's no trolley. Or BART.

Or open displays of Pride. 

This town lives up to the definition of a tough waterfront town.

Not only do the people here look like they could kick your caboose - they will!

So, actually, it's nothing like San Fran.

Anyway, I meet two girls - on the same night. 

That'll probably be my quota for the remainder of the year.

Sheesh...

Girl numero uno was this extremely good looking dish in a tiny dress better suited for warmer climates. Not only did she think she was in Palm Springs that night, but by the time our paths crossed she was pretty toasty (as in buzzed) too.

"I hate the #%@* music in here," she kept lamenting. 

Kanye West and Gwen Stefani were coming from the jukebox that night.

"Who do you listen to?" I asked.

"Deftones."

I wish I could tell you that there was more to our conversation (or her musical choices) than just that, but that pretty much sums up the repeated circle our talk went in. 

What kept it going was her bizarre non-sequiturs that kept popping up.

"I wonder what life would be like without arms."

Sounds pretty good, right? Only problem is that with each gem like that, soon after something like this would follow.

"I hate the #%/@* music in here"

Or something like this:

"I hate this #%@* town!"

Over and over again. 

Depressed, I parted ways with that place and hit the streets, looking for a joint serving some food.

The Donger needed it.

Place number two had better music. Anyplace blasting the Gap Band is aces with me. 

 


No food, But I ended up dipping in.

My conversation with girl number two was a little more sane as well... or so it seemed under the loud noise and music. 

She was tiny, long hair. Freckles, cute.

I bought her a drink because she had the same name as my mother.

Shut up.

Anyway, we talk, and it's the kind of talk that feels alright for whatever it's worth between a  man and a woman in a bar on a Friday night. 

She seems to be a nice girl. What am I saying - she was a nice girl.

"You should come out to the patio with me and my friends!" she says.

I agree and follow her out there.

Now, I just told you she was a nice girl. What I haven't told you yet is that she is just as insane as girl number one.

"I live up here to study pyschology," she started. We're out back now on a patio, so it's quieter.

"What do you plan to do with that degree?" I ask.

"Help out kids, I think," she says... 

…then she emits a tiny chuckle like Woody Woodpecker.

I'm not kidding. Everytime she finished a sentence - Woody Woodpecker.

The first time she did it I thought she was kidding.

Then she did it again... and again. 

Maybe she was drunk, I don't know. But between that, her robotic dancing, a comment she made about worshipping Shiva and her group of friends made up of dudes mostly, I had had enough.
If I stayed in my hotel room that night, I'd be a few bucks richer and would have caught a good flick on AMC's MonsterFest. 

Instead I settled for experiencing MonsterFest firsthand that night!

It was worth it.

copyright,  © 2006 Paul Silva