Is it better to be lucky or good? Frank Barron reporting, your midnight tour guide, your personal gadfly, your late night scribe. It's 11:11 upon my arrival at FB's for the duration of my term. The lights are low, and the Queen City's premier adult playground and cocktail dance lounge is buzzing once again.
On this night I'm immediately recognized and whisked into the premises. There I'm introduced to this week's birthday girl, and just so happens she's a stunner. In my impromptu process to memorize her face I completely forget to memorize her name. Damn, such are the perils of the fast introduction. She says "nice to meet you" as if she may really mean it, I absorb the moment and move on.
I'm escorted by the proprietor to my own reserved table. Hey, looks like Mr. Barron is stepping up in the world, and I've brought my new Armani shoes out to mark the occasion. As par usual I decline any liquid spirits and take my seat. Remember kids, Sitting is better than standing, and you can get away with so much more. Staring at the bar, I think of how the array of bottles are set up like an intricate art installation (I wonder if I can make a fortune off some sad curator with this concept).
As the DJ kicks on my favorite song, I'm distracted by a particular female visitor to my reserved table, she's nicely equipped with puffy afro, light leg warmers, (how cute) and heels. In my mind, we share a moment without saying a word. I'll regret not getting her numbers, but I have my rules. Never approach a woman until you've seen her twice. Plus, when Frank Barron's on assignment, Frank Barron's on assignment. Sorry lovely, I'll either see you later or in my dreams.
Nothing better than fresh women prepping for pictures. By the poses, I can only imagine the photographer saying, "Give me sexy kitten". Just then 2 girls saunter in wearing silver Red Bull backpacks. I don't pretend to know their purpose, and since they leave two minutes later without distributing beverages, God only knows. The DJ's selections are now taking hold, finally the dancing girls begin to come to the forefront. Now is the time to separate the men from the mannequins, and as the night grows longer the heels get higher.
Well, my hourglass is running out of sand, the phone needs recharging, and it's already past my bedtime. You already know my catch phrase, "Every night has a story, and Frank Barron is it's biographer." And now it's time to go (my import turns into a pumpkin after midnight). But not before being hit with a $50 parking citation from Cincinnati's finest. Hey, I never said It was lucky, luckily for you, It's just that good.
Frank Barron
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