Brittney Cason After Dark

Last night was Shear Madness ... literally.

With how busy life can get we tend to develop Alzheimer's of the little things ... like closing the bar tab, transferring laundry from the washer to the dryer, where we put our keys and car inspections — and now that they got rid of the sticker, there goes our daily reminder. Oh but don’t worry, the DMV will remind you when they fine you.

And as in my case ... looked like shit. It had been over six months since my last hair cut — not only did I forget to get it cut, I forgot the last time I had it cut. And its been growing like I’ve been putting Miracle Glow in it. The universe must have been telling me something because I called Modern Salon to see if by chance my girl Brittany had an opening before next year, and she did, for 6:30 p.m. ... right before Shear Madness at the Stage Door Theater in Blumenthal.

Modern Salon and Spa wasn’t shear madness, but the play was. It was like playing a game of Clue — an interactive play where the audience gets to play detective. At intermission Jack Dillon, who played the cop, even questioned the audience as witnesses. It combined improv and acting to make one entertaining production that makes you laugh and think. Mrs. Shubert played by Linda Edwards and Tony Whitcomb played by Tom Wahl were guilty of stealing the show. See for yourself who is guilty of the crime. (Get tickets here)

I literally ran down Tryon to make the end of Taste the Nation for a night of gluttony and glee. There was a lot of dancing and socializing going on ... but I was hungry and in a hurry. My mom taught me not to talk with my mouth full, so I didn’t talk much: “Hi, how are you, good to see you, gotta go.” My fat ass was too busy chewing on chicken salad from Wolfgang Puck Bistro, Chilean Sea Bass from Bricktopps, and chicken salad croissants from Johnson and Wales.

And to wash it down I had a drink from M5’s Josh Hunter, “bartender to the stars.” The good food was for a good cause, the event raised money to benefit food banks and fight childhood hunger. I was too busy eating to take pictures, so check out QC After Dark.

Never in my life have I ever been hit on by so many gross old men than at Taste of the Nations last night. They were like polar bears ...

Last night, I went to Whisky River, not for college night ... but for college. I enrolled in Better Class’ Goddess 101 and Mixology 101. I rolled up to WR in yoga pants for Pole Dance Charlotte’s workshop, and ended up behind the bar concocting my own cocktail for their Bartender’s Spring Slinger.

Now, I wouldn’t necessarily say that I respect strippers, but I do respect the art and admire their agility – they’re like Olympic gymnasts on those poles. (Now, if only they Lysol’ed the pole every time a stripper slid down it in no more than a thong, I’d find the art a little more sanitary).

Although it would probably hurt to actually have balls and dance on a pole, you need to have balls in order to dance on a pole — if you know what I’m saying. Well, to help you grow some balls, shed some inhibitions and unleash your inner stripper, Goddess 101 supplies you with a Tommy Bahama Mojito before stripper class. They will be at Whisky River again next week and then changing locations to a more intimate setting. Speaking of which, Pole Dance Charlotte also provides private pole dance party that also include lap-tease classes.

On the other side of the curtain was the Spring Slinger bartender contest. One of the managers asked me to make a drink for their “Mixed Drink Contest,” which required me to concoct my own cocktail. Having never mixed a drink, let alone invent one, I thought to myself - the only mixed drink I know how to make is a Shirley Temple ... why not pop the virgin’s cherry. And with that came the “Slutty Shirley Temple,” or virginal Brittney Cason ... whatever you want to call it.

Jenna from Blackfinn and Mark from Whisky River helped me concoct the cocktail recipe ... (and learn how to pour liquor).

Put cherries on the bottom of the glass

Pop the cherry with some ice

Add Cherry Vodka (3 seconds worth of pouring)

Add a splash of coconut

Fill with Sprite

Top with grenadine and a cherry on top

Jenna did a taste test and told me to use less coconut and more cherry. Another bartending babe advised me to use less cherry because that’ll make her even sluttier.

For the second time in a week ... I slept in, but I didn’t throw a hissy fit this time. In fact, I probably would have thrown a hissy fit if I actually did wake up for the 6:30 a.m. call time for the Cooper River Bridge Run. 40,000 people ran across the Arthur Ravenel Bridge in Charleston, about 10,000 of which came in from Charlotte for it — and about 5,000 thousand of them actually ran. The Cooper River Bridge Run weekend is not just a 10K, it’s like a corporate spring break — Charlotte on the beach.

For some runners the Bridge Run is a masquerade of a marathon. My friend dressed up as a cop to run while her friend dressed up like a burglar and they ran the entire race like a criminal pursuit. I just did my own little "Cooper River Bridge Rollerblade" along the beach where people were a hot mess. Half of them because they were sweaty from running, the other half were just drunk. A group of Charlotteans were even going around conducting beach breathalyzers. When I blew a .00 they handed me a beer and told me I was under the legal limit and that I needed to drink up to catch up by order of the law ... twist my arm.

That afternoon I went to Windjammers, which kinda felt like being at the Rusty Rudder. I heard Zac Brown Band’s Chicken Fried (who is playing at Coyote Joe's on May 21 ) three times within a 30-minute time span ... and I didn’t mind at all.