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Attack of the WooGirls

Choking on cologne, parading downtown, and a fit thief

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It's easy to jump to conclusions when you write a column like this. You see a lot of human nature in action every week, and, after a while, a sort of template (some might argue "stereotype") develops. Any "scene" has its own particulars, the uptown bar scene among them. Wednesday evening, I set out a-drinkin' on the seventh annual uptown Turkey Trot in an attempt to either confirm or counter my suspicions. It was, to coin a phrase, a smashing success.

Some thoughts: Bud Light, as mentioned in this column last week, is the unofficial beer of WooGirl Nation. Both WooGirls -- the kind who let out a rebel yell in unison after doing Jager Bombs -- and the kind of guys that chase them love this watered-down brew, and buy it by the gross. Put simply, that stuff isn't beer. Anyone worrying that much about a few calories ought not to be drinking anyway, as their priorities are obviously out of whack.

Secondly, the tight black pant is this year's little black dress. Of course, the little black dress is also still popular, as are heavily "weathered" jeans and those dorky glasses that Britney Spears wears. Speaking of which, if you're wearing what Britney Spears wore over a year ago, you're probably just a wee, little bit behind the times. To boot, Britney's outfit was probably designed by someone who stole the look from some hip fringe ethnic or sexual group over a year before it was ever draped on her lovely frame. Here's a thought...you can attract that sensitive mate you so desire if you'd...be yourself.

Lastly, a word about cologne. They say that you should only put on a dab, just enough to be sniffed by someone smelling your skin up-close. Evidently, I must have been intimate with a lot of people this week, because I smelled, or rather was nearly knocked down by, the stuff on every third person I passed. Using that much cologne used to have a purpose, incidentally. People used to douse themselves in it because they rarely bathed.

As parades go, you have to love Charlotte's Thanksgiving edition, the Carrousel Parade. It has pretty girls on floats, funky high school marching bands, and all sorts of marginal local celebrities pandering for attention. Most importantly, there's lots of people -- as anyone who's seen a few parades knows, people are as much of the show as what's going down the street.Plus, lots of people means lots of vendors, which means lots of food, which means lots of SpongeBob SquarePants inflatables.

Evidently, it also means having to drop your standards when hiring prospective inflatable vendors. One guy, walking not 10 feet in front of me with a full cart of Spideys and Hulks and SpongeBobs, announced his wares by yelling, "Cheap Chinese Toys!"

The Dynamite Brothers returned to town Saturday for a gig at The Room with the Alternative Champs. Now, both of these bands are admitted personal favorites, and I'll usually travel wherever to see them. How nice, I thought, that they'll be playing at The Room. It's right off Park Road, in a nice neighborhood with lots of parking, and there's lots of people out, and the cover is nice and low.This idyllic spell was quickly broken, however. After parking beside the Blockbuster Video, I saw a man sprinting out the door of the place. "Wow," I thought. "Now there's a man who likes movies! He can't wait to get home and settle in with a big bowl of popcorn...maybe we should hire him to help out Matt Brunson!"

Then I noticed that he appeared to carry something smaller, like some video games. I also noticed he didn't stop, and ran (with a small limp) like a fool down toward the Taco Bell, after which I (and a Blockbuster employee) lost him. I hereby offer up this information freely, in case anyone is currently investigating this bit of tomfoolery (which I doubt, but you never know).

I also offer this: All that talk of video games fanatics becoming fat, out-of-shape victims of lethargy is hogwash. This dude could scoot.

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