Panama City is a long way from Lake Charles, Louisiana. Like twelve hours, we're talking. So by the time it got dark on the bus, and we were still an hour away, everyone was feeling a bit restless. And thus, a plan was born. To explore the gay bars of Panama City and get our dance on. And so it was.
We dropped off our stuff at the hotel, and dolled up for a night on the town. We were headed to a place called Splash, which incidentally, is the name of a very big gay club in New York, the first gay club I went to when I was a freshman in college. So naturally, I was expecting something similar. Well, our wee crowd of nine was the entire club that night. To be fair, there was one older man sitting at the bar when we walked in, but he left shortly thereafter. Pitchers of jungle juice were ordered and requests to the dj were made. We had our run of the place, and it was a blast. When "Whip My Hair" by Willow Smith came on, I teased my hair into a high pony and went crazy. The song is three minutes and thirteen seconds, and I daresay I whipped my hair back and forth and around in circles for the entire thing. After a few hours of this, some of us decided to call it a night. But others, myself included, decided to go back out for more. To another club, of course, one with other people besides us. The next club was actually quite packed, and we even caught the tail end (no pun intended!) of a drag show. There was then an empty stage, and sure enough the Barney boys (and girl) found themselves on it. Alas, this was not our only contribution to the club. Should you check the list of top winners on the PhotoHunt Machine, you'll see what I mean. When we'd drank and danced enough, we decided to head home. Our home, however, was right next to a Waffle House. So we couldn't help but stop in for some late night waffles that just so happen to taste like banana bread. Must I mention this was my third trip to Waffle House that day? No? Good, I didn't think you'd be interested.
We had the next day off, and I was looking forward to doing some shopping at the mall near our hotel. It is at this point I am obliged to mention my neck was really, really sore from the previous night's hair whipping. Turning my head to the right was out of the question and tilting my head down an absolute no. Hence, my hair could not be flipped over for its customary towel drying. I resorted to button down clothing to avoid putting anything over my immobile head. I did get up and go to the mall like a champ - only tried on a couple things and with great pain - and then sat on the far right side of the movie theater to avoid any head turning. I watched "The Next Three Days" for a dollar, which is an incredible luxury coming from New York City, home of $13 movies. I spent the evening in the hot tub trying to soak away the pain, which although ineffective was rather enjoyable. Shows with a stiff neck the next day? Not so fun. The painkillers helped, and my neck is now almost entirely better. After a few days off, it was with great pleasure that I put my running shoes back on for an 8-mile run to Pensacola Beach!
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