Fast Times in North and South Dakota

It’s been a pretty uneventful couple of weeks since I last had anything worth saying, but I guess there have been enough developments to finally let everyone know how I’m livin.   

Last time I wrote about Bismarck, I complained that it was way too cold, and snowy, and that the only girls I could find were fat and smoky.  Well, things havent changed too much, but I’ll tell you what, it was 20 below back then and it’s 30 above now which feels like 80.  I haven’t worn my gloves in weeks, and my jacket is currently more of an accessory than something to keep me warm. I know what you’re thinkin: “Hey, it’s only 30, you do need a jacket at all times.”  I beg to differ, sweaters do the trick just fine right now, so I can’t complain about the cold too much.  However it’s still cold enough for ice to be everywhere on the ground, meaning that if you take one false step, your ass is liable to end up back flipping onto your neck.  I take little baby steps all the time to avoid the career ending injury that I’m sure is waiting for me.   

I must say I’ve adjusted to the night life.  That first night I went to Buck’s was somewhat of an anomaly, although not totally.  I haven’t seen any fat girls wildly dancing on the floor or screaming “Let hip-hop Live!”  I certainly haven’t had any fight over me.  I’ve learned two things since I last wrote about Buck’s.   

First, there are quite a few non-smoky fat girls, they just tend to avoid Buck’s for the most part, but you can still find some there.  My coach, along with some of my blog readers, suggested a couple other places for me to go.  He especially knows that I like a more professional scene and led me accordingly.  As for Bucks, I guess that the girls who had hit on me before were acting on prior experience.  Yea, I mean like they have definitely messed around with some Wizards in the past.  I guess score for them and boo for whatever former or current wizard who went for the WWE tag team.  I mean I bet those girls feel like it’s playing a lottery that they’ve actually won a few times.  Proposition a Wizard, have a great night, and go to Denny’s in the morning for a Lumberjack Slam.  It’s actually like the same four girls who are all ready like spaghetti and I see them there every time.  Im actually kind of friends with them now.  By this point they know that I like to go there and dance and have a good time without their company later on, so it’s all good.   

Secondly, I think every single state except for California allows smoking in bars, so it’s pretty much just a situation you have to deal with if you leave.  It aint just a North Dakota thing.   

All that being said, I have had some good times, bad times, and downright weird times out here the past few weeks.  For starters, one night when Matteen Cleaves was in town, we went to a place called “Stadium” sports bar.  Now I must say I had a terrible time, mostly because I was so tired from the game, and partly because there were only about 15 people there.  There were some good looking people, but I was way too tired to talk to any of them, I was ready to leave 10 minutes after we got there.  One person who was definitely not afraid to say a coddamn word was a woman I had never met before.  She was actually a very nice woman, but still provided some some strange events that night.   She’s 6’3”, 275-300 lbs.  I kid you not this is her size.  As soon as I walk in, Corey Williams says to me “Hey Rod, ask her to give you the hug.”  She then says “Oh you want the hug?”  I look at her from head to toe then I look at Corey the same way you would look at Steve Irwin if he asked you if you wanted to hunt crocodiles.  I say to Corey: “THE hug doesn’t sound good.  If it was A hug that’s one thing, but THE hug sounds like it’s a little too much.”  Right then she just grabs me and picks me up about 5 feet in the air in the middle of the bar.  My body is so long that I swear my limbs must have knocked over a couple drinks and smacked someone in the face.  I don’t get embarrassed easily, but right then I was about as flush as a black guy could be.  She finally set me down and I went about my business as if nothing happened.  I guess nobody else in the place seemed to care, maybe this was her gimmick and she was the main attraction at the bar.  Anyways, she did the exact same thing to Matteen.  This guy, no joke, screams out like a 13-year-old girl at a scary movie.  He bobbled his drink and everything he was so scared.  It was funny because she got him from behind.  It wasn’t long before she had picked up everyone.  Yes, everyone, including 285 lb. center Kevin Lyde who was helpless to fight back.  The only surprise was Darius Rice.  This kid is lighter than me, yet, when she tried to pick him up, he locked his legs in some weird sumo stance, and picked HER up.  They were almost wrestling it looked so awkward.  What you see in that picture is her basically refusing to let Corey do anything but talk to her.   Every time Corey tried to get up, she sat his ass right back down.  When I left she still had him locked up on the stools.   

So after that night I decided to cross Stadium Sports Bar off my list of potential new spots.  What came next was a road trip to Sioux Falls.  The day before we left “The Biz” as I’m calling it now, one of my closer friends on the team, Curtis Stinson, was released.  I guess that’s how it goes.  A few of us went to Buck’s to show him one last good time.  We stayed at Buck’s until closing time (not without dancing for 2 hours straight first) then headed back to the apartments to play monopoly until 3 am.  Bright idea I know.  Well, we had to get up at 6am for a flight to Sioux Falls, but my retarded self forgot to pack the night before.  So I had to pack in the morning running on empty – an event I don’t even really remember.  The whole pack job is a complete blur in my mind.  When we got to the airport I noticed that everyone else had big bags with them.  I had two backpacks — hmm first sign that I didn’t do it right.  I say to Kevin Lyde: “Hey, Kevin, how many days is this trip?” “Four,” he replies.  Oh snap there couldn’t be FOUR DAYS WORTH of essentials in my backpack, no way.  I open up my bag and look inside.  Ok, there’s one collard shirt, one pair of jeans, a pair of sweats and a jacket.  NO WAY I didn’t pack ANYTHING else.  No Underwear.  No Socks.  No toothpaste.  No deodorant.  No Phone charger.  Obviously it was the best packing job of all time.  If it weren’t for the fact that our flight was cancelled due to a big time blizzard, I would have ended up in Tulsa smelling like burnt hair and Tabasco.  Lucky for me our trip was cut short and I was able to return to The Biz for a fresh set of clothes.   

Since we didn’t go to Tulsa like we were supposed to, we ended up going to Buck’s again, but not the Buck’s I know.  Turns out there is also a Bucks in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  Who knows how many of these places exist out there?  I certainly did not know this place was a coddamn chain, that’s for sure.  Anyways, when we got there, for some reason, I was really feelin it.  I must be turning real North Dakota these days, but I was having a good time and at the same time thinking “Mann our Buck’s is way better.”  That’s right, OUR Buck’s.  Us North Dakotan’s haha.  So I’m in this place and they don’t play one rap song the whole time, the closest they get is “Fergilicious”.  For some reason I am not bothered.  I’m kind of feelin the country.  There are the old favorites “What hurts the most”, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”, and “We’re Comin to Your City”.  It’s safe to say that I know the words to these songs right now and if I’m really feelin myself, you might catch me singing them like everyone else there.  But this night there were new songs.  I’m talkin to my teammates and I hear “Billy’s got his beer goggles on!”  I kind of perk up.  No way is there a beer goggle song, no way.  But oh yes, it is true and I love it.  I start listening to the words: 

    Awww Yah! 

    Billy’s at the bar, he’s been there all night 

    First ten beers he’s had, since her goodbye 

    HEY! HEY! 

    She left him broke, in his new truck 

    He don’t smoke, but he lights one up 

    Temporary fix, for his heartache 

    He’s hurting bad, but he’s feeling great 

    He’s on the dance floor yelling Freebird 

    Singing off pitch but he knows every word 

    Grabs him a girl and he holds on tight 

    He’s chasing everything in sight 

    He’ll fall apart when he gets home 

    But right now his worries are gone 

    Life looks good, good, good 

    Billy’s got his beer goggles on 

    Hey! 

Could there be a better song ever in the history of songs?  No, I can’t C-Walk to this nonsense, but I tell ya what, I don’t  know a guy who can’t relate.  Hooray for you, Country Music, hooray.  So now I’m alertly listening to every word of every song and they are all appealing to me for some reason.  “I play chicken with the train” catches my ear. 

hugg a lugga [3x], 

Who? The big black neck commin’ through to you boy you done fell and bumped you head uh huh, 

That’s what they said, 

People say it’s impossible, not probable, too radical, 

But I already been on the CMA’s, 

Hell Tim McGraw said he liked the change, 

That he likes the way my Hick-hop sounds and the way the crowd screams when I stomp the ground, 

Now, big and black, clickty clack and I make the train jump the track like that 

I dont know what any of that means.  I don’t know what CMA’s are nor do I know one Tim McGraw song, but I’ll tell you what, it made me wanna play chicken with some trains.  It’s pretty safe to say I had a great time that night.  I guess I must’ve bought into the lifestyle somewhere along the way.   

Back at Buck’s in North Dakota a week later, I was having a good time once again.  This time they were playing all the hip hop hits so Renaldo, Corey, Chris, and I had a dance off.  Renaldo started it off with a head bobblin, leg wigglin thing that was very “first round”.  He was obviously saving his better material for latter rounds.  Corey comes out and does the same.  Chris hits us with a little tootsie roll action.  Hands on knees swaying back and forth, a very solid first round effort.  I want all the marbles right away, I wanna end this thing in round one.  I do my patented “Baseball” dance.  I bring the bat back and get into my stance at the plate (all to the beat of the song mind you).  I look the invisible pitcher straight in the eye, as if to say “bring it.”  The invisible pitch comes and I swing my bat to the rhythm of the song, and connect with the ball.  I put my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and watch the ball go over the fence.  I trot the bases (still in rhythm) in place and jump up to stomp home plate.  I feel like this is game over for this dance contest.  Right then Renaldo starts round two with his “football” dance.  He gets low beneath the center and takes the snap.  He does a 3 step drop and surveys the defense.  He pump fakes left, then shifts his feet and throws right.  Right then I see Corey running a coddamn post route through the other dancers.  He catches the pass and spikes the ball.  Renaldo does he own touchdown dance.  Chris’ turn.  Chris gauges his reel, then casts his bait far into the lake.  It looks like he’s caught something.  His “fishing” dance looks solid.  He reels in his catch, right on beat, and displays his prize catch.  Although I only did one dance, I felt as though this competition was over because I couldn’t think of another good sport to dance to.  Renaldo claims that he is the champion, but I disagree because he took the sports theme from me and if Corey hadn’t gone long, it would have just been average.  It was a solo competition, not a tandem dance off.  Just another night out in Bismarck.  I think I’ll go to “Bistro” tonight, which is one of my coaches recommended spots.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll engage in a great conversation about how, now that the snow has melted, I realize that there was grass underneath all along.  It could happen. 

Last time I wrote about Bismarck, I complained that it was way too cold, and snowy, and that the only girls I could find were fat and smoky.  Well, things havent changed too much, but I’ll tell you what, it was 20 below back then and it’s 30 above now which feels like 80.  I haven’t worn my gloves in weeks, and my jacket is currently more of an accessory than something to keep me warm. I know what you’re thinkin: “Hey, it’s only 30, you do need a jacket at all times.”  I beg to differ, sweaters do the trick just fine right now, so I can’t complain about the cold too much.  However it’s still cold enough for ice to be everywhere on the ground, meaning that if you take one false step, your ass is liable to end up back flipping onto your neck.  I take little baby steps all the time to avoid the career ending injury that I’m sure is waiting for me.   

I must say I’ve adjusted to the night life.  That first night I went to Buck’s was somewhat of an anomaly, although not totally.  I haven’t seen any fat girls wildly dancing on the floor or screaming “Let hip-hop Live!”  I certainly haven’t had any fight over me.  I’ve learned two things since I last wrote about Buck’s.   

First, there are quite a few non-smoky fat girls, they just tend to avoid Buck’s for the most part, but you can still find some there.  My coach, along with some of my blog readers, suggested a couple other places for me to go.  He especially knows that I like a more professional scene and led me accordingly.  As for Bucks, I guess that the girls who had hit on me before were acting on prior experience.  Yea, I mean like they have definitely messed around with some Wizards in the past.  I guess score for them and boo for whatever former or current wizard who went for the WWE tag team.  I mean I bet those girls feel like it’s playing a lottery that they’ve actually won a few times.  Proposition a Wizard, have a great night, and go to Denny’s in the morning for a Lumberjack Slam.  It’s actually like the same four girls who are all ready like spaghetti and I see them there every time.  Im actually kind of friends with them now.  By this point they know that I like to go there and dance and have a good time without their company later on, so it’s all good.   

Secondly, I think every single state except for California allows smoking in bars, so it’s pretty much just a situation you have to deal with if you leave.  It aint just a North Dakota thing.   

All that being said, I have had some good times, bad times, and downright weird times out here the past few weeks.  For starters, one night when Matteen Cleaves was in town, we went to a place called “Stadium” sports bar.  Now I must say I had a terrible time, mostly because I was so tired from the game, and partly because there were only about 15 people there.  There were some good looking people, but I was way too tired to talk to any of them, I was ready to leave 10 minutes after we got there.  One person who was definitely not afraid to say a coddamn word was a woman I had never met before.  She was actually a very nice woman, but still provided some some strange events that night.   She’s 6’3”, 275-300 lbs.  I kid you not this is her size.  As soon as I walk in, Corey Williams says to me “Hey Rod, ask her to give you the hug.”  She then says “Oh you want the hug?”  I look at her from head to toe then I look at Corey the same way you would look at Steve Irwin if he asked you if you wanted to hunt crocodiles.  I say to Corey: “THE hug doesn’t sound good.  If it was A hug that’s one thing, but THE hug sounds like it’s a little too much.”  Right then she just grabs me and picks me up about 5 feet in the air in the middle of the bar.  My body is so long that I swear my limbs must have knocked over a couple drinks and smacked someone in the face.  I don’t get embarrassed easily, but right then I was about as flush as a black guy could be.  She finally set me down and I went about my business as if nothing happened.  I guess nobody else in the place seemed to care, maybe this was her gimmick and she was the main attraction at the bar.  Anyways, she did the exact same thing to Matteen.  This guy, no joke, screams out like a 13-year-old girl at a scary movie.  He bobbled his drink and everything he was so scared.  It was funny because she got him from behind.  It wasn’t long before she had picked up everyone.  Yes, everyone, including 285 lb. center Kevin Lyde who was helpless to fight back.  The only surprise was Darius Rice.  This kid is lighter than me, yet, when she tried to pick him up, he locked his legs in some weird sumo stance, and picked HER up.  They were almost wrestling it looked so awkward.  What you see in that picture is her basically refusing to let Corey do anything but talk to her.   Every time Corey tried to get up, she sat his ass right back down.  When I left she still had him locked up on the stools.   

So after that night I decided to cross Stadium Sports Bar off my list of potential new spots.  What came next was a road trip to Sioux Falls.  The day before we left “The Biz” as I’m calling it now, one of my closer friends on the team, Curtis Stinson, was released.  I guess that’s how it goes.  A few of us went to Buck’s to show him one last good time.  We stayed at Buck’s until closing time (not without dancing for 2 hours straight first) then headed back to the apartments to play monopoly until 3 am.  Bright idea I know.  Well, we had to get up at 6am for a flight to Sioux Falls, but my retarded self forgot to pack the night before.  So I had to pack in the morning running on empty – an event I don’t even really remember.  The whole pack job is a complete blur in my mind.  When we got to the airport I noticed that everyone else had big bags with them.  I had two backpacks — hmm first sign that I didn’t do it right.  I say to Kevin Lyde: “Hey, Kevin, how many days is this trip?” “Four,” he replies.  Oh snap there couldn’t be FOUR DAYS WORTH of essentials in my backpack, no way.  I open up my bag and look inside.  Ok, there’s one collard shirt, one pair of jeans, a pair of sweats and a jacket.  NO WAY I didn’t pack ANYTHING else.  No Underwear.  No Socks.  No toothpaste.  No deodorant.  No Phone charger.  Obviously it was the best packing job of all time.  If it weren’t for the fact that our flight was cancelled due to a big time blizzard, I would have ended up in Tulsa smelling like burnt hair and Tabasco.  Lucky for me our trip was cut short and I was able to return to The Biz for a fresh set of clothes.   

Since we didn’t go to Tulsa like we were supposed to, we ended up going to Buck’s again, but not the Buck’s I know.  Turns out there is also a Bucks in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.  Who knows how many of these places exist out there?  I certainly did not know this place was a coddamn chain, that’s for sure.  Anyways, when we got there, for some reason, I was really feelin it.  I must be turning real North Dakota these days, but I was having a good time and at the same time thinking “Mann our Buck’s is way better.”  That’s right, OUR Buck’s.  Us North Dakotan’s haha.  So I’m in this place and they don’t play one rap song the whole time, the closest they get is “Fergilicious”.  For some reason I am not bothered.  I’m kind of feelin the country.  There are the old favorites “What hurts the most”, “Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy”, and “We’re Comin to Your City”.  It’s safe to say that I know the words to these songs right now and if I’m really feelin myself, you might catch me singing them like everyone else there.  But this night there were new songs.  I’m talkin to my teammates and I hear “Billy’s got his beer goggles on!”  I kind of perk up.  No way is there a beer goggle song, no way.  But oh yes, it is true and I love it.  I start listening to the words: 

    Awww Yah! 

    Billy’s at the bar, he’s been there all night 

    First ten beers he’s had, since her goodbye 

    HEY! HEY! 

    She left him broke, in his new truck 

    He don’t smoke, but he lights one up 

    Temporary fix, for his heartache 

    He’s hurting bad, but he’s feeling great 

    He’s on the dance floor yelling Freebird 

    Singing off pitch but he knows every word 

    Grabs him a girl and he holds on tight 

    He’s chasing everything in sight 

    He’ll fall apart when he gets home 

    But right now his worries are gone 

    Life looks good, good, good 

    Billy’s got his beer goggles on 

    Hey! 

Could there be a better song ever in the history of songs?  No, I can’t C-Walk to this nonsense, but I tell ya what, I don’t  know a guy who can’t relate.  Hooray for you, Country Music, hooray.  So now I’m alertly listening to every word of every song and they are all appealing to me for some reason.  “I play chicken with the train” catches my ear. 

hugg a lugga [3x], 

Who? The big black neck commin’ through to you boy you done fell and bumped you head uh huh, 

That’s what they said, 

People say it’s impossible, not probable, too radical, 

But I already been on the CMA’s, 

Hell Tim McGraw said he liked the change, 

That he likes the way my Hick-hop sounds and the way the crowd screams when I stomp the ground, 

Now, big and black, clickty clack and I make the train jump the track like that 

I dont know what any of that means.  I don’t know what CMA’s are nor do I know one Tim McGraw song, but I’ll tell you what, it made me wanna play chicken with some trains.  It’s pretty safe to say I had a great time that night.  I guess I must’ve bought into the lifestyle somewhere along the way.   

Back at Buck’s in North Dakota a week later, I was having a good time once again.  This time they were playing all the hip hop hits so Renaldo, Corey, Chris, and I had a dance off.  Renaldo started it off with a head bobblin, leg wigglin thing that was very “first round”.  He was obviously saving his better material for latter rounds.  Corey comes out and does the same.  Chris hits us with a little tootsie roll action.  Hands on knees swaying back and forth, a very solid first round effort.  I want all the marbles right away, I wanna end this thing in round one.  I do my patented “Baseball” dance.  I bring the bat back and get into my stance at the plate (all to the beat of the song mind you).  I look the invisible pitcher straight in the eye, as if to say “bring it.”  The invisible pitch comes and I swing my bat to the rhythm of the song, and connect with the ball.  I put my hand over my forehead to shield my eyes from the sun and watch the ball go over the fence.  I trot the bases (still in rhythm) in place and jump up to stomp home plate.  I feel like this is game over for this dance contest.  Right then Renaldo starts round two with his “football” dance.  He gets low beneath the center and takes the snap.  He does a 3 step drop and surveys the defense.  He pump fakes left, then shifts his feet and throws right.  Right then I see Corey running a coddamn post route through the other dancers.  He catches the pass and spikes the ball.  Renaldo does he own touchdown dance.  Chris’ turn.  Chris gauges his reel, then casts his bait far into the lake.  It looks like he’s caught something.  His “fishing” dance looks solid.  He reels in his catch, right on beat, and displays his prize catch.  Although I only did one dance, I felt as though this competition was over because I couldn’t think of another good sport to dance to.  Renaldo claims that he is the champion, but I disagree because he took the sports theme from me and if Corey hadn’t gone long, it would have just been average.  It was a solo competition, not a tandem dance off.  Just another night out in Bismarck.  I think I’ll go to “Bistro” tonight, which is one of my coaches recommended spots.  Who knows?  Maybe I’ll engage in a great conversation about how, now that the snow has melted, I realize that there was grass underneath all along.  It could happen.

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