words: s. engler • photos: s. engler • c. delfino • m. moronie • a. ryerson
Today we started the second leg of our BLOOD trip. We are behind schedule, our pride has been put aside (Dominik) and DEATH looms over us like the dirt & flies that always followed the Peanuts cartoon character PIGPEN. I am going to go as far to that, the actual second leg of our trip was last night in Pittsburgh staying with Jeremy Beightol. Let me explain…
We arrived in Pittsburgh yesterday expecting to have a night of catching up with friends, talks of business, and BEER (Duh…). Well the reality of the situation is that all of those things did happen, BUT at a price. First off, the night began at a TIKI Bar to refresh our thirst after the drive from NYC. TIKI Bars make me laugh. You always wonder what Asshole is going to order some funny drink with fruit, umbrella toothpicks, and exotic animal themed straws. That asshole was Moronie, hahaha. I’m pretty sure she regretted it. It was a disgustingly sweet drink that immediately grab the heckles of everyone else in our party. It was quick how the night clasped onto our ability to make any sort of sensible mature decisions. Oh how the mighty fall so quickly. Ok, back to the timeline. After our beach excursion to the TIKI bar we decided to head into the mountains to the LAVA Lounge. Yes, The LAVA Lounge. I have never been to two themed bars in one night so I think we could all tell how special this night was going to be. At LAVA the decor was pretty spectacular. Jeremy explained that it was owned by the same chap whom owned the TIKI Bar… Makes sense to me. While I could definitely see the Volcanic influences of this fine establishment it reminded me more of a “Beetlejuice” themed Bar so we acted accordingly.
At this point you are probably wondering why I’m giving you the play by play of some stupid bars. Well, I find “Themed bar to be funny and ludicrous. It all makes sense now seeing as how things turn out. Dominik’s pride was lost at our last bar of the night. It might be the last Place Jeremy took us to show us around but the kicker of the night comes later. The Polish Vets Club was the name of our last excursion into the night. This happy little after hours “Bar” was literally the trashiest most depressing place I have ever had the pleasure of visiting. It was called The Polish Vet Club, but you wouldn’t know it because there were neither signs nor windows. You had to know it was there to know it was there. The door was even locked and you had to be buzzed in to partake in the libations. Once we walked throughout the black unmarked door It went like this… We came, we saw, we gawked at the insanity, and then we had to save Dominik from a VIPER that was trying to have a bite to eat. This is the kind of place where people lose their lives. Almost felt like if a prison had a bar it would be modeled after The Polish Vet Club. I am very reluctant to even call this place a bar. Bright Florescent bulbs, Linoleum Flooring that would make your Grandmother cry, and what I suspect was a room full of METH addicts all added to the one of a kind ambiance that overloads your senses. A RETREAT WAS IN FULL EFFECT! This is when the night fell apart.
The bottom line is that there comes a time in everyone’s life when good conversation and comfortable bars are something enjoyable to do. I contribute the fall of this night to the intoxicating atmosphere of The Polish. Apparently after the party stops the party moves to the roof of Jeremy’s apartment. Now, living in NYC I love to take every chance I get to explore rooftops. There is no real way to sugar coat the fact that this evolved into a horrible idea. Well, not so much evolved, it was just a horrible decision PERIOD. I would love to write a long explanation of the accounts of the roof but the fact is that the events unfolded within 10 minutes of these guys getting to the top. Downstairs we heard the commotion. The sound feet trampling across the roof. Pitter patter that we wrote off as horse play after an informative night into the underbelly of Pittsburgh. It was two minutes later when Alex and Christian came down to tell us that Kyle Guilford had fallen nearly 30 feet from a second story roof. Now, hold on, I guess it was LESS graceful than a fall. He tried to jump to another roof which was pitched at more than a steep enough angle to suck him to the depths below. I can only imagine what was going through his head as he approached the edge and realized that the end was NIGH. Clambering to the last bit of asphalt roofing until it was all but gone and the only thing left below him was the cold chill of the Northern Air and the thought of his own mortality coming to fruition. When Alex and Christian first told us we thought it was a joke. Why wouldn’t we? I mean who falls off a roof? Oh yeah, Kyle does! “Is he dead” we asked. We could see by the look on their faces that he was. WTF! Really! KYLE GUILFORD IS DEAD! Haha. Well actually he wasn’t dead. I just made that part up. Apparently he fell to his demise onto a very large plastic trash can. Only some Floridian MNF’ER would be saved by a trash can. What an ASSHOLE! After a series of grunts and groans Kyle yelled up to everyone that he was indeed OK only to be echoed by Wild Bill yelling back asking if Kyle knew that he had just fallen off of the roof. Kyle did indeed recollect the two story 30 foot fall into oblivion that had just occurred. An ambulance was called to cart off his bird flying ass. KIDS DON’T TRY THIS AT HOME. Long story short it’s really nice to be able to laugh our asses off and give Kyle shit now that he is OK and still slugging around with the living. A word of advice Kyle… Get your shit together! Haha. You son of a bitch. After an overnight stay in the hospital and several staples in his head we were finally back on the road again heading to BCSD XII.
The road has not been kind to us today. The wind was strong enough to to flip a Simi-Truck on it’s side and then there was the short spell of the blizzard like downpour of snow. The troops are getting testy in this coffin of a van and the hotel, however horribly dirty it may be, sounds like a Palace to me. The worst part of this whole situation… Wait let me preface that statement with the fact that Kyle falling off the roof was not the worst part of this situation. Maybe it was for the night, but know that he is in the back of the van probably contemplating his mortality, his self-induced accident was actually a good thing. Ok, back to the “worst part of the situation.” We are so far behind our schedule that we are unfortunately not going to make it to Michelle Gerard’s “The Rollerblading Project” Gallery for the Opening. Sorry about that. At least Kyle is alive and I can sleep soundly knowing that if someone refers to another person as “Pulling a Kyle”, They might have fallen off of a roof, but they are OK and alive.
Actually we did make to the Gallery Opening. Better late than NEVER. Awesome show and mini skate park. LOOK for “The Rollerblading Project” post to be up soon. Sweet pic of WALT AUSTIN… WHAT!!!!!!
All I can think of after looking at that picture of Kyle. Jesus christ…
You goons. Kyle and contest=overload
A simple and inginletelt point, well made. Thanks!