Dallas "I am the Product" G.'s Profile

I've been to the Crescent Ballroom a couple times but I've only seen one show. Let me tell you how it played out... and therefore why you should go.

Through my typical dumb luck, which I am blessed to have in spades, I was able to get tickets to a show on this particular night that I needed them.

I showed up late and what do you know, I walked down and took someone's seat in the front row.

The singer, a blonde woman, age unknown, is like "I'm gonna free style. I hope you don't mind." So, of course, the crowd goes wild without knowing what's coming.

And she starts sing a Toby Lightman song:

"Did I see you winkin' or is that me thinkin'?
Should I show affection to the guy in the front row?
Did I see you smile 'cause you been here for a while
Should I make a connection with the guy in the front row?

"But you don't know where I'm from, where I belong
All you know is my name
And you only know what you see and that really isn't me
But I'm glad you came

DALLAS here again interrupting my own story:

Now I'm thinking, is this a coincidence or am I the guy in the front row? Cause, you know, I'm the fricken guy in the front row.

Ok back to the story:

Her still singing...

"Are you makin' passes while I'm pleasin' the masses?
Well, I know all about you, you're the guy in the front row

AND THEN I SWEAR SHE LOOKS AT ME! WINKS. SHE WINKS! I of course am bright red and embarrassed.

"Are you trying to distract me, while you're tying to attract me?
But I what to do, about you in the front row"

OK... So here's the part you're all hoping for... my emotional devastation.

She finishes the song in which she say's she's glad "I" came... Asks lyrically if "I" want to hang... and at the end... She's like come here, guy in the front row.

She wags her finger in the exact way you want a relatively attractive woman to wag her finger and I get up... and she bursts out laughing hysterically... and she can't stop. She's like dying of laughter. That fucking bitch is crying laughing at the stage and everyone saw me get up... fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.

She was fricking wagging her damned finger at the guy next to me... who like got up and smelled her knee. I'm sure she would have made out with him but she was still laughing.

So anyway, if you want THAT kind of relationship with the artists. That's what you get. you can like see their cloven hooves if they're devil women like her. Or whatever.

It's quite literally the best place in town to see a show or be the show and get seen or watch trendy people in their natural habitat.

So. Hula's Modern Tiki...

I was at Hula's MT the night I met Porn Star Ron Jeremy.

I was at Hula's MT the night I found out how to forgive a family member for murdering their lesbian lover in their sleep in Nebraska.

I was at Hula's MT the really inspiring time I heard that song from the movie Rad, Send Me an Angel (by Real Life, 1989).

I was at Hula's MT the time I witnessed a family of four drink 5 Volcano bowls.

I've written there.

I've been cold.

Hot.

I've seen Keely there probably 100 times.

I've ordered things not on the menu and found no phlegmy aftertaste.

I've had a birthday party there.

I've been to a birthday party there. I fell into a wall after leaving there.

I've had caffeinated beer there. I've had un(not de)caffeinated beer there.

I've found it to be delicious and drunk.

Get the black been burger. You're welcome.

Get the Scorpion Bowl. Don't drink and drive. Do have a pulled back hair holder. Show owner comment »

I had a nongoing feud with Lucky Strike. That is, they didn't really know about it until about a year later but, on Facebook, I tried to dissuade people from going there because of their policy denying fashion defining jorts (mens jeans shorts).

That said, Gabi and Jared invited us for a bowl/drink and all was forgiven when you go somewhere (ANYWHERE) with Royalty.

I got so sloppy drunk. Gabi says we're serious bowlers, and while that may be true in the most proudly white trash sense, that night I could not see straight. Nor bowl. Jared likely benzodiazepined me.

I would describe Lucky Strike like this: Scottsdale type crowd, very reasonably priced drinks, and very, very expensive bowling.

I'd say, must try before you die. I liked it at the time. Did it completely silently and blacked out (lid closed). However, I had fucked up hips for two days after. I think i must have tensed up without knowing it. I'm sure it's gets better during the second float but I don't know that I'd ever be interested in the second float. I did it to force myself to meditate. There must be better ways.

A fine establishment I suppose, but the least good for after hockey booze, in my opinion. If you're just a normal not hockey person, and you like neighborhood bars generally, you'll like this place just fine.

Amber W. dragged me here for her birthday. There are toplessish women.  Thanks Scottsdale ordinances! The Scottsdale City Council does not appreciate the value of unencumbered nipples. Or perhaps they understand all too well, which explains the ridiculous pasty rule. Anyway, the girls are toplessish, as I mentioned above. And that never hurt anyone.

$2 bills.

I have some good stories that happened in the drink line here. Stories. Plural. Someday, I'll update my review and tell them.

Until then, the drinks are SOOOOOOOOOOOO expensive.

I feel like I'm miles behind and miles ahead of the curve on Magnum.

Imagine a couple years ago, or last night, or whenever, and you're in bed with a girl, lady, woman, or victim du jour for the first time. And there's "hot and heavy" going on... which sounds noticeably less appealing when one is sober. And she tries to mount up for a "Hey, Mr. Tambourine Man" ride and, maybe, you don't drink at the time, and you're like, "Woman, don't you have any condoms?"

And she says no. Things sour. You feel safe. And jackassoholic.

And you later find out this isn't true. SHE DID HAVE CONDOMS. It's just that she didn't want to embarrass you with the Magnum condoms in her bedside table that she shared with her tyrannosaurusly hung ex. What a Dick. Because she thinks you'd be intimidated. Because you're just a cute little guy.

Well, if you can believe it, it's happened to me. Again. And this time, her name is Magnum. She is beautiful.

In the future, the coolest of the cool, the swankiest of the wanks, the biggest smiles, the worst breath, the hippest hipsters, and the snobbiest Scottsdalians will disabuse this place of it's current location-induced obscurity. And I'll talk longingly about "back in the day, back in the days before you couldn't walk through it" like I do now with the Vig. This is the future of Phoenix nightlife. Are you marking my words?

The location absolutely could not be worse. But what they have is something really special. She has New York quality cocktails and obviously the Bill Clinton/Monica Lewinsky phallic cigar aspect is an important factor that can't be ignored. Suck. Blow. Tons of cigars to be put wherever he/she will let you.

Go here. Be surprised. Tell your friends. Rinse. Repeat.

Delicious. Nice work, Pomegranate Cafe!

I'm pleased to see that Capriotti's has so many glowing reviews, which means I don't have to feel as bad about this bad boy.

Long story short: I ate there once I didn't like it. I ate there again, adding my own veganaise and vegan cheese to their veggie turkey sub and loved it. I ordered for a third time today.

Or actually my coworker ordered for me, which actually has some bearing on this story as you will see. I was prepared to go completely apoplectic on this Yelp but instead I'll try to keep calm and just say why I think it's a one-starer.

My coworker ordered me a large fake turkey sub. How do I know this with 100% certainty? I listened to her call. I have it recorded. We record every call. Trust me, there are good reasons to do this. Your business should too.

Anyway, so I listen back to the call and here's what happened. She said, may I please have a fake turkey sub with no cheese and no mayo. When he repeated it back to her, he said "Turkey" but because he also said mayo she corrected him on that and didn't reiterate the VEGGIE turkey. This sort of thing happens in the world. No harm, no foul.

However, this is important because when I brought it up that my mother fucking TWELVE DOLLAR sub was turkey, he basically said, "well that's what you ordered." I trust my coworker but, upon her recommendation, I decided to listen to see where the communication break down occurred. I wish there was a way to embed the call in here.

So at this point believe it or not I was still being pretty rational and I'm like no biggie. I'll just tell him. This fucking thing is unopened. Surely someone will order a Turkey in the next ten minutes...

Instead he basically said too bad so sad. So my eyes bulge and he's feeling like an asshole and says if I want to wait around he'll make me a new one. No fucking thanks. I get it.