Weekends 9 & 10

Weekend 9- I had to put the craziness on hold for a weekend because my mama came to visit! Good meals, good shopping, you know the deal.

Weekend 10-
Thursday night: This happened to be St. Patrick's Day so of course I was ready to go out for that! My plans were up in the air--Cute Guy and I had discussed doing something but he had been elusive all week. Reason being, he had taken me out to dinner the Sunday before and I didn't go back with him to his place (the trains to Queens were running terribly and I wanted to go back while it was still a decent hour). So ever since then he had been a little pouty. Unpleasant surprise for me. But I think it's common sense that if you are just interested in just hooking up with someone you don't take them out to dinner and ask what their parents do. Idiot. So needless to say I didn't hear from him about St. Patty's. Luckily Ibanker came through--he said he had friends that were going to a bar in Times Square. That was a mistake--I got totally lost trying to find the place and had to walk 5 blocks, pushing my way through wasted 19 year olds in green. One kid, whose friends had cleary abandoned him, was rolling around on the sidewalk and when I ran past him I was fully expecting him to vomit on my feet.
So I show up to this place pissed off and painfully sober. I spot Ibanker in his suit, up on a balcony with a bunch of other guys in suits. I make my way up the stairs, which is what anyone with commen sense would assume is the way to get there. Wrong. Walk into a private party. I go to the next level. Same thing. WTF. I finally figure out that there is a staircase in the back of the bar and join the party. I am cleary the one who doesn't belong--everyone there is in suits, including the few girls. Everyone there works for a law firm or an investment bank. Everyone there is apparently at their college reunion since they seem to have all gone to the same school. And in I walk, unemployed and in leggings. Sometimes I wonder why the Ibanker keeps me around. Probably because Im so charming--I down two beers in about 30 seconds and proceed to make fun of his green tie. The night goes as you would expect--small talk, booze. We both decide at some point that we are hungry and leave to get food with another guy and his date. I volunteer Chipotle as an option which is accepted with enthusiasm. The three of them all discuss a case the one guy is working on (something to do with football...boring) while I tune out and concentrate on eating my entire burrito bowl, since I know I can't take it home. Fatal mistake. We head back to the bar afterwards and when I try to drink another beer I feel like I'm going to die. I convince Ibanker that it's time to leave. On the way home he decides that he hasn't had enough to drink and wants to stop by another bar. I grudingly agree. Luckily it was super nice--the place used to be a city commissioner's office back in the day so it had a giant fireplace with a giant safe. This complimented the giant drink ibanker ordered. We stayed and chatted for a bit then headed back. A relatively mild St. Patrick's Day. I think it is a holiday in which I have grown too old to celebrate.

Friday/Saturday night: Friday night was another night I stayed in. I had been extremely grumpy all week due to girl's issues and had had to work all afternoon. I was pissed off that Cute Guy wasn't texting and I had no other plans to speak of. I decided to cut my losses and was in bed by 11. Probs a good move.
This gave me some rest for the night to follow. Bingo Night. Yes that's correct. A current trend in NYC is a Bingo Party. They have one every couple of weeks in a different location, that they don't announce til the day of. It fronts as a theme party, for example tonight's theme was a country hoedown. But it really is a rowdy party where people get wasted, dance and play Bingo. I had been wanting to check it out for awhile, so CB and I decided (after much debate) to truck it to the art space in Brooklyn where it was being held. We were greeted by a roomfull of Hipsters. Surprise. We grabbed a marker and a $3 High Life (amazing!). Now this had the potential to be a really good time, and it actually was considering the mistakes we made--coming just the two of us and sober. We were able to change the sober part, lucky for us. Before we knew it the country music was dimmed and a saucy British man walked onto the stage, flanked by two tattooed girls in cowboy hats. The man proved to be very amusing. He kept yelling things in his British accent such as "This is a sick tune!" and "There are 7,000 people here!" (when there were barely 100). We played a couple rounds of Bingo, making fun of the stupid prizes and the people who won that they harassed on stage. We took a couple shots and were ready for round 3--the final round. I was determined to win. I told CB that I was going to hug the British man while also wrapping a leg around him if it happened. My sheet was slowly filling up with marks. I was close. Before I knew it I only had one number left to mark off. I waited and couldn't believe it when they shouted "90!". I shrieked as loud as I could. I threw everything in my hands on the ground. My coat, my half-full beer bottle which broke everywhere. I ran onto the stage, hopped up and basically molested the British man. "What is your name?" he screams into the microphone. I answer gleefully. "Where is your ticket??". I look down--no ticket. I had dropped it with my coat! I shrug. "GET OFF MY STAGE!", British man yells. No he can't mean it I think in horror. I'm pushed off the stage amidst the crowds' boos. CB is frantically scouring the ground for my ticket. I join her as do a couple other people from the crowd but we don't find it before some asshole wins the prize. My prize. A stupid giant speaker that I never would have kept, but it was the glory I wanted. CB admits that a minute after I threw everything in excitement she saw someone bend down and snatch something up from where I had been standing. She realized too late that it must have been my ticket. Some fucking hipster stole my winning ticket! I am pissed and pretty embarassed so we decide it is time to leave. But we will be back, to claim revenge. There will be other Bingos and you can believe we will be there, winning what is rightfully mine.