Then we got sick of it right around midnight...downtown it is! Vitos....no....DC's....no....piano lounge?! FINE.
It was four dollar Bacardi drinks, which is just a dumb "special" so I just followed the pack and got some orangey tasting fruity thing. It was fine actually, you could have mistaken it for orange pop in my opinion.
We were there for quite sometime, it was boring though, it was pretty apparent the piano guy was just playing whatever he felt like, because we wrote down and requested probably 15 songs and never heard one.
It was pretty dead in there, considering it was a Saturday night and all. All the workers were sitting around snacking on huge jimmy johns and dorito bags with walking taco's in them. It was all lame and fine until this pack of drunken slobs walked in and posted up at the table behind us. Typically I'd be ridiculously annoyed by that, but I all the sudden saw it as the perfect opportunity to finally add some spice to the night. They didn't dissapoint.
The piano guy was right in the middle of "Don't Stop Believin'" when all the sudden everyone turned and heard the biggest bang in the entire world and this one girl was done for the count. It was so loud the piano guy even hesitated for a second and stopped playing. The girl was like sprawled out and it was to the point where I was embbaressed for her just becasue I was within 15-feet of her. It was more of an older crowd so the entire place just gave death stares.
Her friends literally carried her out, and that was that. The night ended in Mesa pizza, not shocking. My guy friends devoured the biggest slices of macaroni pizza and like weird ass kinds. It was actually repulsive. I can proudly say I passed on the feast if nothing else positive.
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