ADAM: Well, first, would you like to explain to the nice people why you were not able to come with me to see KRY, Nicky?

NICKY: You make it sound like I had a choice. Due to what I'm calling a "medicine mishap," I was unable to attend the fun. I lost my ID and hadn't slept in three days, so it was best to leave this week's adventure to Adam. But you didn't go into this alone. Who was your sidekick this week and how did the night begin?

ADAM: I guess those are valid excuses. On the hot tip of some random drunk dude, I decided that I needed to go to The Swiss when everyone's favorite bro-down cover band KRY was playing. I would've gone alone, if need be, but luckily our friend Charlotte the Magnificent came to the rescue. We pre-gamed at Puget Sound Pizza before heading over to The Swiss to get our KRY-faces on. The place was buzzing with activity, and KRY were in full effect. I had never seen them perform, before, so I didn't know what to expect. Certainly, I didn't see the drummer's plexiglass barrier coming - you know, like the kind Phil Collins would've used. As their rendition of Eve 6's "Inside Out" played in the background, Charlotte and I immediately noticed the bachelorette party situated at the table just inside the door.

NICKY: Obviously, the random drunk stranger was on to something. Did you make it to the bar before swooping in on the nice group of ladies by the door or did you take a stroll around the bar a bit? I guess what I'm asking, Adam, is did you let any ladies twerk on you while KRY played?

ADAM: Don't get me wrong: there was twerking happening, albeit from a safe distance away from me. Charlotte and I swooped by the bachelorette party, asked what they wanted and brought them some Washington Apple shots. They were playing the classic college drinking game King's Cup, which I have never seen done in a public place. I should also mention that Charlotte had decided to adopt a Southern accent and pretend that she had just moved here from Virginia. She's way better at this than I am. After nabbing a picture with the bride-to-be, we decided that a change of venue was needed. We headed down to the bar at the Hotel Murano, where we ran into yet another bachelorette party. They're everywhere!

NICKY: 'Tis the season to put it on lock down, I suppose. So you went from a crowded, three room club where a band from the '80s played hits from the late '90s to early 2000s to a much smaller and I'm sure much more quiet hotel bar. How was that? Did you come up with a backstory about being in town for just one night on business? I feel like you should have a backstory if you drink at a hotel bar in the town you live in. It's just kind of weird.

ADAM: WHY DIDN'T I SAY I WAS A BUSINESSMAN? Oh well. We thought we were nailing it: drinking in a place where out-of-town people are staying just steps away? Perfect. Well, the place was pretty dead, save for a cluster of coupled-up 50-year-olds. I told them I was a writer and asked them how they go about picking up people at bars, and the men were sheepish at first. There were several answers that were along the lines of "ask them what their sign is," but nothing I could use. One woman was adamant about how stupid she thought this column was. She said that I should try approaching women at the grocery store, which I can't imagine doing outside of a fugue state. To complicate matters, a man at the bar said that the best way is to go to a million bars and hit on as many people as possible. Why can't this be more straightforward?

NICKY: I don't know, picking up chicks at the grocery store doesn't sound half bad, depending on what aisle they're in. I could see how hitting on as many people as possible could work, or every rejection could just kill us a little each time.

ADAM: Isn't that what's already happening?