The Gin Mill is a nice hole in the wall-ish type bar with an outside, heated smoking section and two bars with lots of space in between. The mix of people is eclectic, but totally a good vibe. They play a great mix of rock, pop, hip-hop and some moldy oldies that everyone can sing along to. All in all, I'll go back there, for sure. (Well, I was back there since I went to Trickernation for Halloween, but The Gin Mill of normalcy resembles very little of The Gin Mill for Trickernation. I digress.)
While enjoying our adult beverages, Heather and I were dancing up a storm and holding tryouts for our dance team. We have two new members: Mike (new favorite roommate award as well) and Tyler, the high-kicking, mild creeper. Although, we don't think that Tyler will come to anymore practices.
Here are some of the highlights of the tryouts:
- Tyler: Although he had the moves and was on beat with a different song, the one move that got him on the team was the impromptu high kick. Impressive in designer jeans and a crowded bar without casualties. Except for the biting. Not cool.
- Mike: Homeboy has skills. From turns, to dancing with others, to lip syncing, he's got it all. Welcome to the team, Mike. Heather and I greet you with open arms on the dance floor.
- Find the Beat Brunette: You may have not consciously tried out for the team, but Heather and I are always recruiting, regardless, you didn't make the cut. You were always a half beat off and that half beat wasn't even to the song that was playing. And, poor thing, it only got worse as other people tried to dance with you. She needs better friends.
While dancing with Tyler, a blond at the next table was very interested in Mr. Tyler. When he wasn't dancing with us - taking a breather since he's not as rock star as Heather and me - she would try chatting him up. While he had his back turned to her texting, she looks at me dead in the eye, reaches over and grabs Tyler's ass. Good one, sweetheart. If you haven't noticed that Heather and I are pointing and laughing at Tyler most of the night and telling him "Inappropriate", we aren't interested. He's all yours. High kicks, biting, and all.
The second part was when Missey was being polite to another party-goer that we were talking to about going to The Gin Mill, she said, "Well, I guess we'll see you later then." His reply was, "Nope. Probably not. I have a girlfriend." Wait, what??? When did being polite and friendly turn into hitting on a guy? And home slice, you need to check yourself because your paunchy ass has too big of an ego.
Also, this reminds me, Heather, we need to go to the Fort to have our official casting via New Belgium postcards.