For a 20 spot, we got into the 'strip bar', where oddly enough, every girl was clothed. Due to some recently-enacted ordinance, the CamDen of Sin (think somebody's basement: neon Red Dog beer signs and fake wood paneling) had to cloth their dancers. Not pasties and G-strings mind you, but regular bikinis...amply cut bikinis. One girl even had on a one-piece, swim-meet type thing. Horrified, but having driven too far to just turn back, we decided to hang around. Things were predictably lame until Tito and Jay showed up.

Normally, I wouldn't whip out the digicam, among other things, at a strip bar, but seeing as I was essentially watching a community pool scene with a bad 50 Cent remix in the background, and being prodded by Tito and Jay, I figured why not. No sooner did I try and take a pic, than a bouncer yanked the Elph. 20 minutes and $40 later I got my camera back with the promise to only let the dancers take pics for $20 a pop. So Sandra ("It's pronounced 'Sondra' not 'Sandra', my mom was Dutch." Oh.) was nice enough to take a pic, and even nicer to leave a little of her bleach-blonde hair in the photo. $120 and 2 hours later we headed home.

Before we hit the road down to DC, Woods and I stopped by an indie record store (why do all indie rock stores look and smell the same?) for some music for the road. Plenty of Matador, Jade Tree, Sub Pop to assauge your credibility, but Woods decided to pick up something a little extra for the ride (and the midnight hour) - Billy Idol. He had this CD sandwiched between a Prefuse 73 cd and a Rentals EP so I wouldn't see it. But I got a pic of it anway. Some girl is about to marry a guy who bought a (used) Billy Idol cd at age 30. For the bride-to-be, we prescribe five hours of Oxygen tv, three bottles of Chablis and a weekend stay at an undisclosed Sandals Resort.

After enduring the parking lot that is I-95, I was dropped off in DC, and met up with my buddy Stick for the most mediocre of NBA games. I can't remember the other team, but I know they played the Wiz. I know this only because the game was at the MCI Center. That's how bad this game was. I'd say MCI Center was 60% full, with 70% of that 60% being obnoxious kids with free tickets. Nothing like spilling not one, but two beers, as section 124 stampedes its way to free Wiz t-shirts sponsored by the good folks at Giant Supermarkets. Kids haven't gone this nuts at a Wiz game since they had Steve Colter Appreciation Night back in '89, but then that was at the ol' Cap Centre and they were still the Bullets. Bullets would have come in handy in section 124.

From one lame sporting event, we woke up on Sunday to hit another - the Skins v. Saints game. Spurrier rot had set in, and none of my usually rabid 'Skins fans wanted to go the game. Not even stories of the Fun Bunch, Riggo, and RFK tailgates past seemed to raise their spirits. So we drank lukewarm Miller Lites in the parking lot and watched a self-professed 'tailgating fanatic' and former D-III baller extraordinaire Newtie spend the better part of an hour trying to light a grill that didn't deserve so much tofu burger. Watching a 'football' fan light a 'grill' in the 23 inches between an Acura and Audi was just plain sobering. Watching him not get it to light was just plain intoxicating.

After the grill debacle, we herded in with the rest of the Starter-clad fans to be frisked by security. A process normally filled with hassle and frustration turned to gold when a man right in front of us was caught trying to sneak a few beers into the stadium. Ho Hum you say? Not when the security guy pulled out the can and showed it to all the crowd and barked out, "This man tried to sneak in a Milwaukee's Best Light!" And sure enough, he had. Not one, but three cans were confiscated. I don't know what was better: the look on the face of the man's wife (she was wearing a fur coat) or the crowd when we broke out in laughter peppered with 'you suck' chants. Almost made the $75 tickets worth it.

FedEx Field was pretty beat when we got inside. Resignation was on the face of every fan, except of course the face of the cleary drunk schoolteacher from Glen Burnie, MD two rows in front of us. She covered her resignation with two-day old mascara. She really hit her stride midway through the third quarter when the 'Skins scored to cut the defecit from 'No way' to 'Unlikely'. This was her moment to shine, and shine she did. She picked out a nearby Saints fan, ran down the aisle and unleashed a flurry of scarf slaps. Imagine Jim J. Bullock trying to fight while being goosed on a Stairmaster. This is what the woman looked like. Lots of bluster. Little damage. The Saints fan, dumbfounded, let this go on for a few seconds, and then let out a simple "Woman!?!?" That seemed to end her antics, my fun and any reason to hang around.

All in all, the Thanksgiving weekend was pretty lame. Lame enough to make me wonder which was lamer: the weekend or this dynatrite entry?

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*- Tito is a bail bondsman in Philly who never leaves home without a leather jacket, smokes Swisher Sweets, and dates everything according to the Flyers calendar. You say you went to Cancun in July '95, he says you went to Cancun two months after Lindros was traded. His younger brother Jay is 1) Woods' best man 2) recently married 3) and a big fan of ELO.

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