I'll have a wry Martuni

Kevin and I had tickets to "Broadway with a Twist 2" Thursday night. Painfully, painfully bad. We had to walk run out at intermission. We had free tickets, which were exorbitantly overpriced.

Kevin and I took our need for a show and cocktails to Martuni's. I had to jot some overheards down on a napkin so I could remember to blog them later.

Kevin and I sat at the piano and enjoyed Jason and Tiffany (shouts). We also surveyed the random singles in the bar (men sitting by themselves) and pondering if they were looking, enjoying being alone, or perhaps shy. Backstories were imagined to the showtune accompaniment of the pianist.

Me: His body language scares me. He looks really uptight.
Kev: I think he's cute.
Me: He looks like a serial killer.
Kev: He looks like a stripper?
Me: Serial. Killer.
Kev: Maybe he strips before he kills you.
Me: Oh my God. We have to write a musical about a stripper serial killer.

Later, we were joined by others, who shall remain nameless:

A: I always like this bar. It's always got a different crowd.
B: Has anyone ever stumbled out of Martuni's and into an orgy at the EconoLodge across the street?
[silence]
A: Other than you?
B: I can't be the only one.
C: I had to take a cab. [to my post-Martuni's orgy]

aaaaaand scene.