… but there’s a guy at the bar tasering himself. He starts the taser going, filling the whole room with a sinister buzz. He slowly moves it closer to his skin until he spasms violently and shouts “Ouch! Goddamit!”
A few seconds pass, and he does it again. Buzz. Spasm. “Ouch! Goddamit!” I am… astonished.
When you start feeling romantic about bars, remember this guy. I will too.
I think that is what makes the bar romantic…
There do exist in this world a few people whose concept of pleasure or grasp on reality is questionable. The most recent example here in Albuquerque is a guy who, for quite some time, had been hanging around the zoo — especially near the enclosure of a jaguar. He apparently decided he’d been around this particular jaguar long enough that he was now the jaguar’s friend. He climbed over a fence that had been set at an angle to make it nearly impossible to climb over; he waded through a bed of cactus that had been placed as an additional barrier; and he stuck his finger through the wire mesh at the front of the jaguar enclosure.
The jaguar promptly bit his finger off.
I’d bet this guy got more pleasure out of getting a finger bitten off than the taser guy ever gets.
But I’d be willing to also guess that somewhere behind it all is the Suicide Squirrel Death Cult.