Tuesday, October 26, 2010

It Takes Two to Taco: Partner's

Hans and Mendez woke and found themselves to be victim to a vicious prank. Someone posing as Hans and Mendez on their favorite Linda McMahon fan page posted a public appearance of Hans and Mendez promoting vodka at Partner's, New Haven premier gay bar. In outrage, Mendez snapped his ipad mini in half. "Now's not the time for vodka; its hot toddy season!"

Like many bar-goers in New Haven, Hans and Mendez had never stepped foot into Partners on Crown Street, which is arguably the most talked about, but least visited bar in New Haven. Their reasoning is not out of homophobia, but simply out of optimism. Sitting around with a bunch of dudes on week nights is to be expected, not anticipated.

Word reached Hans that this night Partners was hosting a Taco Party where free tacos were to be handed out and and several guest dj's would be performing. Before the words, ''cover free," reached the bloggers' ears, they had already changed into their dancing slacks, boogie shoes, and matching, "this is NOT a spin-free-zone" t-shirts. Mendez thought about wearing his leather pants, pinched his blogger belly and thought otherwise. Hans, who after several meat loaf specials from the Anchor (for research purposes only) just barely made it into his "Officially worn by Jim Morrison and that guy from INXS," leather trousers, but just as soon as he buckled the last strap, realized that leather night is on Tuesday. Not wanting to look ridiculous, he shimmied out of the pants. Readers rejoice: the rash has gone away. Outfits in order, wallets emptied of cash and the hair grease settled, the only thing that the bloggers forgot to bring were note pads and pens.

The Taco Party was held on the second floor of Partner's as if to keep the young men in girls pants out of the view of older men. There was a line for taco's and the bloggers sampled the two offerings of black bean and an indescribable meat. The young lady serving the taco's denied them being a home recipe and was perplexed as to their origin. She served them gracefully to the throngs of hungry people who milled about.

Their lack of writing equipment, which to a food bloggers is as crucial to his craft as a fork and knife (perhaps even more so since a pen can be used for an eating utensil in a pinch), left Hans and Mendez at a severe disadvantage. "The tacos taste like hot dogs," Mendez said, reaching in his pocket for a pad and pen. "Pardon my French, but lightly salted roasted nuts, I forgot my pen in my other (leather) pants! I will never remember the finer points of this salsa cruda!"

In a tizzy Mendez's left foot started to shake. Hans immediately spotted the nervous tick, he had seen it many times before. It came out during Mendez's first attempt at the blogger bar exam, when McDonald's changed four nuggets and fries from the number seven to the number three. The source of this condition can be dated back to when he and Hans had snuck into the "girls only" portion of "the talk" they received during a junior high gym class.

"I'm really n-n-n-nervous," he said. The twitch moved from his foot to his knee, his knee to his buttocks. Get me out of here!" Hans took Mendez by the waist and lead him past chatting people to a quiet area. Then the lights dimmed and D.J. had started to perform. A video artist in the corner flicked to life a projector. The images pulsated. Disorientated by the the flashing projector and the taco crumbs on his glasses, Hans realized he accidentally lead Mendez to the dance floor. Mendez opened his eyes, which were closed to prevent nausea brought upon by what looked like girls from his graduating high school class. "They're just hipsters," Hans said rubbing Mendez's back which began to convulse. "They might look the same, but they aren't."

"No, she cut me in the lunch line, and that one, she tore apart my essay on duck sauce." He soon fell to the ground, his entire body twitching in a syncopated 4/4 time.

"Hey, that guys doing to monkey-fish!" a man (?) shouted from the sidelines.

"No, its the New-York-Frankenstein-Gorilla!" The speaker was quickly and loudly corrected by their partner that the the dance was called the New-York-Frankenstein-Gorilla" named so due to the tenacity of...

As Mendez "danced" Hans found opportunity to sample more tacos. "I can see where he's getting the hot dog flavor from," Hans thought to himself. "If only I had a pen. I could write in blood, but I remember the last time that happened... a bar napkin..." He soon found himself leaving his friend and fellow blogger Mendez on the dance floor, who had become some what of a demi-god/ court jester. He walked done the stairs from the dance/ taco party to the main room of Partners itself. The decor is bland and beat up. Nothing flashy, nothing "fabulous", or "fierce". The euro-synth beat and "Absolute-Pride" advertisements were the only factors which differentiated the barroom from any other dive in which men congregate. That and the dull colored paintings of men stroking their erections.

Hans returned to see Mendez in full glory. The guest dj of the Taco Party, Ian Svenoius spun 45's of some real happening garage pop and soul music. Unfortunately the bloggers were unable to prevent the inevitable. While Hans was gone and Mendez, fueled by a fever and somewhat in a trance muttering "You're my miss Washington D.C" to anyone who listened, was taken advantage of. Someone had inadvertently given Mendez a vodka bottle to hold onto and pictures were taken. Foiled twice. The bloggers don't know who took them but any information you loyal readers can give is welcomed.

The Taco Party hosted by Taco Zone was a great success in the blogger's eyes. Although, as typical of many functions in their beloved New Haven, Hans and Mendez do not see why their contemporaries don't dance. Some people are just prone to bringing a knife to a gun fight. The bloggers sympathize with you, young hearts, just remember: Be free tonight.

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