For countless centuries, humans performed every personal activity--No. 1, No. 2, No. 69--in full view of their neighbors. Nowadays, the undeniable pleasure of relieving your bladder when and where it demands is circumscribed and carries considerable risk. If you insist on establishing some sort of kinship with humans past and wish to lessen the risk of prosecution, the aforementioned area offers relative safety and anonymity. It's an area of dark parking lots trapped behind restaurants and office buildings, with patches of foliage for extra protection. First, of course, you must douse your kidneys with beer, and Duke's Original Roadhouse and The Londoner will oblige in this. And the legendary rusticity of The Londoner's johns makes outdoor urination a necessity.
You've finished the screenplay for your romantic comedy, sure to snag Julia Roberts' interest and a big fat check. But is it ready to send to your agent? Will the meet-cute scene in the bar really play? At free monthly readings on the first Tuesday of every month, sponsored by the DSA, professional actors wrangled by local performer Phil Harrington will give voice to your characters' pithy musings, and if it stinks, hey, better to find out now. Bring 10 pages of your script at 6 p.m. --with enough copies for each character and a narrator--to hear your own brilliant words out loud. (Make sure each role is highlighted for easy reading.) Or if you're not ready to have the world hear your efforts, show up at 7 p.m. to listen to other scribes' scripts. Check out www.dallasscreenwriters.com for more info.
The biggest traffic jam in Denton County used to be the bar at Rubber Gloves. There was a 2-foot lane between the booths and the tables, and another 2-foot lane between the tables and bar. And that was the sole path from the door and bathrooms to the showroom and arcade, which meant that, if you were seated on the outside edge of the booth, you frequently took a black messenger bag to the head or a Conversed toe to the ankle. But Santa Claus brought RGRS a new bar. Basically, the wall behind the old bar was ripped out, opening up another room, which now houses the bar along with a big square of standing/ordering/mingling space. There's plenty of room to sidle up to the bar or head straight to the music. Now if only we could get Rubber Gloves to clear up that High Five mess.
Yes, it's hard to do. Maybe that's why we see so many couples call it quits in the park. It's a public place, so not too much drama (the slapping, the screaming) can go down. It's more relaxing with the grass and trees. And it's hard to get too upset watching kids swing alongside a pickup game of basketball. In the past year, we've known or witnessed at least 10 couples break up at Tietze. We're not trying to give it a bad name or anything; in fact, it's a testament to the peaceful surroundings that folks entrust such pivotal moments to the place. In all fairness, we've seen a proposal there, too, but 10 beats one.