2nd Up: 100 Octane Bar and Night Club

After I stepped on a bride's wedding gown at Tony's rooftop bar (yeah, there was a brand new bride at Tony's) and then barely escaped an ass-whipping by 7 bridesmaids. We decided for some inexplicable reason, to end the night at 100 Octane.

Some of you might be wondering, What and where is 100 Octane? Well, for the longest time it was Suite 152. Located in Old Town Square, it always prided itself as the classier, more sophisticated alternative to other downtown bars. In reality, it was just where the wanksters and fat girls in tight clothes went, before they hit last call at Tony's. With the advent of UFC, energy drinks and a new ownership group, they transformed "the suite" into "the suite on steroids."

As we attempted to enter the club, we were stopped by the doorman. He informed us there is a strict dress code. To gain access into this exclusive club, you have to wear Ed Hardy, Affliction or Tapout tees. Phebus and I both had white tees on, so we asked for the bouncer's magic marker. I proceeded to draw wings, crosses, shapes and squiggly lines on our blank shirts, soon after we headed back to the door. Not only were we allowed in but we also received numerous compliments and inquiries on where we purchased our gear.

When we finally walked through the door, a huge brawl erupted! That, mixed with the large amount of wannabe hustlers, skanks, and garbage techno blaring, reminded me of this scene from True Romance...



Apparently, it's "white boy day" everyday at this club because when we finally got downstairs to the actual bar, we entered a festival of sausage. It looked like a convention of tools and douche bags. The few stragglers (either rail thin or Mo'Nique fat) we did see were up on top of the bar, grinding out of rhythm to the beat.

It was finally time to order and I was definitely ready to drink myself into a stupor. The bartenders looked like UFC fighters, I'd never seen dudes so yoked serving drinks. The one who looked like Brock Lesnar intimidatingly shouted at us, "WHAT DO YOU FUCKIN' LOSERS WANT!?" Sheepishly I responded, " Uh, uh, a Bud Light." He looked at me with hell in his eyes and said, "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY? HERE, DRINK THIS YOU FUCKIN' PUSSY." He handed me a Monster energy drink, I took the beverage without arguing. Then it was Phebus's turn, "Yeah, I'll take a rum and coke." There was a pause from the ogre as he gathered the information of what Phebus had said. His face began to redden and he reminded me of a tea kettle slowly boiling on a stove top. I kept waiting for steam to blast from his ears but alas he only mumbled, "You guys are un-fucking-believable." The bartender took a glass and filled it with Red Bull, then he poured a 5 Hour Energy in it. He handed the drink to Phebus and solemnly walked away.

At this point, we are somewhat in a state of shock. We're wearing t-shirts that look like a small child's coloring book, we've witnessed a massive brawl and been accosted (and served energy drinks) by an MMA looking bartender. We decide that it's time to get out before something else bad happens and then...I stepped on a guy's shoe as we're leaving the bar.

Now I'm face to face with some d-bag who looks like "The Situation" from that crapfest Jersey Shore. I apologize and start to walk away but before I can get to the door, all hell breaks loose. Me and Phebus are in the middle of a gelled-hair brawl. In a matter of seconds, I'm on the ground and I've been thrown into an arm-bar submission. The greasy meat-head is screaming, "TAP OUT! TAP OUT!" My arm is burning and feels like it's going to snap off. So in desperation I yell out, "I've got HGH!" The meat-head released my arm and holds out his hand to receive the illegal drugs. Luckily, Phebus has asthma and happens to have his inhaler on him. I took the cartridge from him and purposely dropped it on the ground. When the meat-head bent down to pick it up, we ran like Usain Bolt for the front door. After all that nightmarish mayhem, we needed a low-key place to gain our composure... So we headed back to Tony's for last call.

100 Octane: