Yahtzee

This particular weekend had been a long time coming--Fidel was in town and staying with me for the weekend. Now as I have said before, we used to cause quite the ruckus in high school and our last outing (running from the kid who threatened to beat us) in DC after our failed bro scavenger hunt was all I had hoped it would be. This weekend also brought about some rowdy times. I met Fidel at the bus late on Friday night. It was rainy and I was pissed--it was foiling our plan to go the beer garden and meet bros. We decided that we might as well truck back into the city and search for some bars indoors. I decided the East Village would have an assortment of men for us to choose from. After wandering for a bit we chose B bar because the line wasn't quite as horrifying as some of the others. As soon as we stepped into it we made a friend. The kid in front of us began to chat and after learning our names decided to share that his little cousin has the same name as Fidel. Slightly creepy. But we decided to keep chatting him up as his friend was very attractive. We eventually parted ways and Fidel and I surveyed. The bar was packed with finance bros, all in the same uniform (checkered shirt and either salmon pants khakis). Many of them were accompanied by monstrously tall girls in wedges. I was immediately annoyed as I had decided to not wear my wedges that night and Fidel and I seemed like midgets in comparison to them. I was also having a hard time drinking, as I was still recovering from the weekend before. While I was trying to keep a drink down, Fidel began to chat with another dude. He was Polish (that is, Polish like me) and from the same town as BK and JW. We'll call him Yahtzee and he was pretty cool and also had a weird roomate (he showed us a picture he had taken of a note she had put on the final toilet paper roll in their bathroom that said "last roll"). We ended up chatting with him for a good part of the night, but I was starting to get the creepy feeling that he was interested in both of us, if you know what I mean. I excused myself to go to the bathroom and when I returned he in Fidel were involved in a full-on makeout session. Luckily my friend High School had just texted asking if I was out. I commanded him to meet me and to my surprise he did. At this point the decision was made to move on to another bar. All of us-- Yahtzee was coming with. Fidel was not happy with this, as she was hoping to find another makeout candidate, but there was no losing him now. He led us down into the Lower East Side to an Irish place. We walked in, ordered shots, and headed to the basement where some lively dancing was taking place. I decided immediately that I was not going to be involved in any of this, as it was not my scene. Yahtzee agreed with me and after a bit we headed out to get food. He had been raving about some burger place and I housed mine in about 15 seconds. After we finally parted ways with him and after a failed attempt to get Fidel to go back with him, he disappeared into the night, never to be heard from again. High School joined us for our walk back to the subway and the three of us walked through the streets laughing and screaming. We were all from Cuse and that is a pretty strong bond. I also almost had a heart attack when High School almost stepped on a pancaked pigeon in the middle of the road and not two streets later, a flattened rat. Apparently the two of us have a tradition--we have seen every type of NYC vermin flattened in the road. Fidel fell asleep during our long subway ride back home (only 16 stops!) and High School and I chatted until his stop. When Fidel and I emerged from the tunnel we were surprised to see that it was light out. Our night had been successful.

The next night we had a party scheduled. It was being hosted by one of Ibanker's friends and one of the guys I had met in the Balkan European country last summer. Ibanker would not be attending and I felt a little strange about going to one of his friend's parties without him even though I knew I shouldn't. After a nap Fidel and I awoke to get ready. We had had a long day wandering the Upper East Side, shopping and stumbling into one of Central Park's Summer Stage concerts (a Latin band, perfect for Fidel). Luckily we were now relatively refreshed and listened to Evacuate the Dancefloor and David Guetta on full-blast while getting ready. I chose a romper and some heels, Fidel an infamous black dress and we knew we were looking good. This was confirmed when walking across the subway platform, two guys got up and followed us. They began to chat with us and we continued on the train. One was blone and kind of tooly and the other just seemed very drunk. They were amusing though and it quickly turned into the best/worst subway ride I have ever had. The boys asked where we were headed. We told them a party in Union Square of a friend I had met in the Balkan European country. The other friend answered loudly that he loved that country. He then just as loudly stated that his favorite thing to do there was masturbate. Fidel and I looked at each other in disbelief and the Tooly friend interjected and began to ask us some normal questions. In mid-convo with Tooly we began to smell something extremely foul. I turned to Fidel and she looked horrified. She informed me that it was the friend--he had just farted and she had heard it. He sat there looking innocent until Tooly called him out on it. He smiled and proceeded to lift his legs up, with a glimmer in his eye. I couldn't believe this was actually happening--I was disgusted but also laughing. The rest of the subway car looked horrified, including the two Asian women sitting next to Farts. He began to speak in broken Chinese to them to warm them up. I couldn't tell if it worked since they were laughing so hard. We got off at Union Square and the boys followed us. We were a little afraid they would try and come to the party with us but luckily they knew better. I gave Tooly my number when he asked figuring they could have something amusing for us later.

The party was pretty good, but not quite as epic as I had hoped. The finance guys there were pretty nerdy, so the pickings were slim. They did have an ice luge that was giant boobs which was good, though I refused to partake. More for the fact that I would have to take a vodka shot than for the boobs. I also learned after we left that they threw this said luge out the window. This is the friend of Ibanker, who once on a trip we took to McDonalds, wastedly ordered 40 chicken mcnuggets with the intention of putting the ones he didn't eat in the fridge. So in other words, I am not surprised that the icy boobs took a flying leap. I'm just glad no one died. Fidel and I spent the party drinking an unhealthy amount of punch and chatting with dudes, including the party's host, Yahtzee. He has the same name as the man we had met the night before-a Polish name, which I thought was uncommon but evidently is not. At the end of the night Fidel and I took our leave to see what other adventures we could find. We headed to a bar I knew in the area, and it was lame. Because of this and the fact that we were drunk and tired we ended up getting into an arguement, were mad for about 10 minutes then quickly forgot about it. We cut our losses, headed back to Queens and indulged in a delicious gyro from the diner.

The next day, having barely recovered, we trecked back into the city to get some shopping in before Fidel's bus departed. After a horrific experience standing with the masses in the heat (and an unsuccessful attempt to sneak Fidel on an earlier bus) she was finally able to board. We bid our goodbyes pleased with our weekend. And to second that, later in the evening I received a text from Tooly asking if I wanted to get drinks that week. YAHTZEE!