This weekend we attended a Halloween pub crawl on East Washington Street to benefit NESCO, an org to promote/preserve history for the east side of Indy (we live in Irvington, a historic district about a block from their eastern boundary, but we share an interest in east side happenings). Our friend George organized it and has been part of the event for several years. We went to Zonie’s, Golden Ace, the Liederkranz, Butler Inn, and the Catalina; there were two staggered groups and a bus transported us to each bar. It was a lot of fun, but the Catalina had some seriously creepy locals. We had to circle the wagons a few times, and while I haven’t been out to dive bars in awhile, my women’s college training kicked in quickly and we kept track of each other closely during bathroom trips and such. The only semi-creepy guy on our bus was Indiana Jones, so we helped our single friends avoid his boob grabbing and (sometimes successful) attempts at making out with others on the bus. At the end of the night we went back to Zonie’s where we stayed for part of the drag show.
Goth girl helps Ashley Todd reapply the B scratched in her face. (Ashley/George organized our trip)
Choir at the Liederkranz, a German-language singing club. This place reminded me of going to Belgian Club with Dad when I was a kid. They served us dinner, and while our organizer helpfully arranged for them to have a non-meat soup available for me, everyone else had eaten it before I got to the serving line! I had a hotdog bun, coffee cake, and bundt cake for dinner. (We hit Steak-n-Shake after it was all over to supplement my remaining alcoholic dinner.)
I went with Father Thyme, who was going to be Father Time but didn’t have an hourglass (I suggested a wall clock around his neck but the idea wasn’t supposed to get too Flava-Flav). He also considered being Jason Priest-ly, pairing the clerical collar with a Jason hockey mask (and probably fake sideburns) but we figured it would be hard to drink beer through a hockey mask. Also, he was trying to do all this an hour before we had to leave.
80s Rocker Guy (we were calling him Richie Sambora, couldn’t think of a better match) dug my costume, which at this point included Bud Light bottlecap earrings I won on the bus raffle. He wore black and white tiger-striped tights and by the end of the night couldn’t stand them any more, switching to jeans at the drag show.