On Thursday, I decided to attend something I had been hearing about for weeks. That would be the Jello wrestling competition at Market Street Saloon, because where else? Before the competition started, I was nearly selected to be part of a side competition, but dodged it just in time. Four dudes were picked to play a pre-game-game. Seated on stools about four feet away from the bar, they were instructed to do a series of jumping jacks, twerks, and push-ups before running to the bar to chug Natty Light. The dude closest to me won.
Another observation: the saloon must have a policy that all bartenders own a pair of scissors. There's no way their clothing was purchased that cut up. Unless management bought their uniforms at a Hollister in 2002. Meanwhile, ladies were encouraged to dance on the bar. For those not in the know, Market Street Saloon has a "no wood on wood" policy. (This is clearly written and displayed — for legal reasons, presumably.) The women got jiggy on the bar — in keeping with the 2000s vibe — to early aughts jams. This instantly triggered a flash back to the horrible things I did in a Charlotte club that no longer exists, incidentally, while mainly wearing Hollister.
Finally, to the main event. Kicking off around 11:30 p.m., which is almost my bedtime, contestants were called to the blow-up pool and stepped into a good four inches of Jello. There was no lifeguard on duty, though I'm pretty sure many of the spectators would have rushed in to help. Jello flew everywhere as the girls went full MMA-style. The crowd couldn't get enough as illustrated by the reformed whore with a sailor's mouth behind me cheering and jeering in between closed-mouth make-out sessions.
All in all, at Market Street Saloon you basically know what you're getting into, and that's what makes it fun. I've never had a bad time there and have always been entertained. That's what they do.
On Saturday, we headed out to Mixson to their Honey Do event to see a live honey extraction during their usual farmers market. The summertime fundraiser for Bee Cause raised funds for observational hives to be placed in schools. Bee Cause currently has 70 observational hives in schools in five states. The honey extraction itself was interesting. A special contraption, that looked kind of like a small washing machine with the power of a tornado, flung the honey out to be collected at the bottom. And each honey had a different flavor and look. Apparently the color varies based on what plants and flowers a particular bee colony is into.
After the Honey Do, I traveled over to Patriots Point to see the user-friendly Lego bridge building replica. Now, in my head, I was expecting structural engineers to be on hand and it be big enough to accommodate, perhaps, a golf cart. Instead it was, well, smaller. But the all-ages affair really brought the kid out in everyone and grown men and women joined their kids in building with Legos. I even added a piece or two.
To round out the weekend, I headed to the fifth annual Super Hero bar crawl. The event began at Mynt and crawlers took the theme seriously donning T-shirts of their favorite super heroes to full-on cosplay. I spotted Daredevil drinking water — his heightened senses must only allow for that. Bane, was there too. I wondered how he could even drink at all, but he kindly showed me — through a pierced mask with a straw. Wonder Woman arrived, presumably valeting her invisible plane at the door. Who knows where they parked it. Next to us I was told we had the super hero from Sponge Bob. Not sure what that is, but he looked a bit like Old Gregg, though he wasn't drinking anything particularly creamy. The crawl went on to Republic and then to Priya and King Street Ale House. I left the crawl after Republic, as I had to get back to my villainous lair.