May 11, 2011

Roast Beef

Last weekend I went down to Corvallis with Sam and Kyle Arthur in a large diesel truck (borrowed from my dad). We were on a mission to pick up some free furniture from Kyle's dad's place and decided to make a night of it. Friday night Corvallis. Woooo.

For those of you who haven't spent a lot of time in Corvallis, it has a large state university. That's about it. Of the two state universities in Oregon, it's the one that is more focused on agriculture, science, engineering, and other such things. Serious things. Things that involve wearing Carhartts and shoes with rugged soles and being socially awkward. If you want to experiment with your sexuality, get your nose pierced, or grow some dreads, you should go to Eugene.

Anyway, it was a total ghost town. We walked from Kyle's dad's house to a local bar, bought a pitcher, and watched some tough girls play pool. There were beards, and sweatshirts, and old grizzled men wearing stained baseball hats. Sam started to fall asleep. He was actually concerned that we would have to carry him back to the house.

Kyle Arthur would not be defeated and attempted to take us to another bar in town, the "Dirty Dirty" Peacock. There was a cover so we didn't go in, but it did look more promising. The windows upstairs were steamed up and shuddering with bass. The crowd looked, well, less good ol' boy than the last place, but still pretty tough. The kind of girls that bleach their hair with home kits and aren't afraid to dump a beer on your dress. We continued to a place called Impulse.

Oh Impulse. Ye of terrible bartenders, rap music videos, and a wall of couches covered in pillows. There was a DJ playing and hoochies dancing  (actual hoochies! They were wearing awkwardly short dresses that required tugging down every five seconds, which they managed to incorporate into their self-conscious dancing). I was impressed by a trio in red and black,  accenting their dancing with high kicks. You can't go wrong with high kicks.

We sat on the couch with the mountain of pillows and people-watched. A girl who looked like Meg from Family Guy stood against the wall near the bathroom. Every once in a while she would sidle closer to the dance floor and start waving her hands around. Then she would get embarrassed and retreat back to the wall like a turtle wearing a stocking cap. We saw scrunchies. We saw super-aggressive, hands on the knees grinding. We saw the most awkward white dancing we have ever seen.

AND THEN. Remember the high-kicking dance trio? They got on stage. They said, "We're Roast Beef!" and then they started rapping. They were actually a female rap group. Amazing. They were like Salt n' Pepa if Salt n' Pepa was just okay and had a crappy sound system, but they had some synchronized dance moves, decent style, and added a whole new element to our Corvallis adventure. We were like, Roast Beef. Awesome.

But as we were leaving we saw a poster. They were actually called Rose Bent. Not quite as great. But still pretty good.

1 comment:

Kyle said...

Roast Beef is such a better name. It would actually make for a great girl rock group band name, I can just picture them screaming "We are ROAST BEEF!" then rocking out.

Corvallis is so damn sleepy that I am glad we at least found something enjoyable. And the best part was definitely beers on the porch at the end of the night.