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Exposing the seamy underside of D/FW nightlife

Welcome to the continuing saga of Flash, the column dedicated to giving you the scoop on the babes, boys and bullshit involved in single life in Dallas. And as always, no names. You know who you are.

Dorothy, We're Not In Kansas Anymore

We've all had those hungover mornings when you wake up and have no idea where you are. Strange bed, strange apartment, strange city. Okay, maybe I'm the only one who's had a morning like that.

Lately, though, I've been having these Twilight Zone moments even before I pass out. I'll be out and suddenly start wondering exactly what planet I'm on. Because it's very clear that the skies above Dallas's bar scene are not blue.

I've lived in LA, and traveled and partied numerous times just about everywhere else. And I'm telling you, Dallas may be on the same planet, but it's a completely different world than anywhere else. I can't explain it. I can only tell you that Planet Dallas is not in this solar system.

So, as a public service to those of you wondering if the Ft. Worth tornado dropped you in Oz, here's a handy little guide to help you figure out what planet you're drinking on.

Top Ten Ways You Know You're Out On Planet Dallas

10.    You see a Dallas Cowboy with a stripper. Not the ones with wives or fiancées, though. They would NEVER do that. Of course, I thought they weren't supposed to do some of the other things they're doing either. At least not and stay in the league.

9.    Some guy named George takes your picture. You know George. Everyone knows George. In fact, you're probably reading this because you came to look at a picture George took.

8.    The line for the guys is longer than for the girls. Not saying there's a lot of guys out in Dallas, but I've seen better guy/girl ratios at gay bars. Not that I sweat the guys. Most of them are like bad sandwiches: lots of cheese, very little meat. But a herd of Velveeta Kings drives the hotties to new watering holes.

7.    The girl you just met is a stripper. Excuse me, I mean "dancer." Oh, I'm sorry, "entertainer." Maybe the reason most bars are guyfests is because 80% of the female population is busy dancing on the weekends.

6.    You wait in line to get into an empty bar. I know they want to make it look like it's cool for cats even when it's not, but waiting in line just to go in and hear crickets chirping is irritating to say the least. Zubar and Milk Bar, I think you hear me knocking. Just because it's usually crowded doesn't mean you have to make people wait when it's not. At least let in the girls. It'll improve the guy/girl ratio.

5.    You see people with a Xtra special gleam in their eye. With all the tulips and clovers around this town, you'd think the Dallas Arboretum had moved to Greenville Avenue. Of course, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed is the only way to deal with certain places (Seven, Area 51).

4.    You see girls wearing animal prints. Not to beat a dead horse, but if you're going to keep wearing the damn horse, I'm going to keep beating it. At least stick with one animal. Trust me, leopard doesn't go with zebra. You don't want to mix predators and prey. This isn't Noah's Ark.

3.    You run into your ex everywhere. Or the new person you're dating knows your ex. Or runs into your ex. Or is stalked by your ex. Dallas may be a city of millions, but the social scene is closer to 16 people. Six degrees of separation, my ass. In this town it's two, tops. And don't even think of cheating, because they probably know each other.

2.    Someone asks you for a bump. True story. I'm at Milk Bar. A wasted hotty bumps into me. Suddenly, I'm her new best friend. She proceeds to tell me that this guy at the bar had raped her last weekend but she didn't do anything about it because she still likes him!?! Then, without pausing, she asks if I have a bump. Trust me, if I did, I would have done it myself to forget the whole damn conversation.

And the number one way to tell you're out on Planet D;

1. You see a rich loser with a hotty. If I had a dollar for every time I saw a rich loser with some smoking hotty, I'd be one of those rich losers with a hotty. How do these people meet, a personal ad? "Single white stripper seeks rich older horndog. Married okay. Be my sugar daddy and I'll be your hootchie momma. Call 972-GOLDDIGGER." Oh, that's right. I forgot that Dallas has a whole subculture of bars dedicated to bringing these lovebirds together. Sipango, Sambuca, Samba, Sullivan's -- are you sensing a pattern -- Palomino, Gold Bar, Beau Nash… I'd go on, but I'm starting to feel sick.


Considering I occasionally wake up and don't know where I am, I probably missed some good ways to tell you're out on Planet D. So please send your personal favorites to flash@usexposed.com.

And as always, the views expressed here don't necessarily reflect the views of anyone else on the planet, much less US Exposed.

- Flash -


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