Lascivious Labor Day-- Part 1

Keeping with the tradition that every official 3 day weekend in NYC has been exceptionally rowdy, Labor Day weekend proved no different. And despite the fact that I was missing Electric Zoo, this was quite a feat. That Thursday night I met up with friends who were in town for Electric Zoo. You've been formerly introduced—Le Canard and Ginger, the two boys from Ultra. I headed in to Manhattan to meet them for a drink before I had drinks part 2 with Coffee, who was also in town for the weekend, but for the US Open rather than Electric Zoo. I decided to take the boys to Beauty Bar, since it was near where I was meeting Coffee and I had never been. This bar is a bit of a hipster bar—it has old school salon-style hair dryers you can sit in and you can even get a manicure if it suits your fancy. Of course I ordered a PBR and we sat chatting. I was pissed I was missing Electric Zoo, but ticket prices were outrageous, especially on my limited budget. After another PBR, I divulged to them my drama for the following night. Benny kid was in town for the weekend as well and I had somehow agreed to let him stay at my apartment the following night. I was nervous, since I barely knew him and was worried that he could perhaps murder me in my sleep. The boys found my predicament comical and assured me that I most likely would not get murdered. It was around this point that Coffee showed up to escort me to the next bar—Please Don't Tell. We parted ways (I could tell Coffee was relieved) and headed to St. Mark's. PDT is one of the more popular speakeasys in the city—you enter through a phone booth inside a hot dog shop. Once inside, you pick up the phone and the hostess lets you through the door, but only if you were lucky enough to get through the constantly busy phone line to make a reservation. Coffee had and we were led into a small bar filled with taxidermied animals. The cocktails on the menu were some of the most ridiculous combinations I had ever seen. My first was relatively tame, with champagne and blueberries, but the next contained beer, gin, hot sauce, some other ungodly ingredients with salt and pepper lining the rim of the glass. It was delicious, as were the tater tots I forced Coffee to order me after our first drink. We had a good time chatting but I knew when we left the bar and were heading to my subway station (the same one where roughly 2 weeks later Ibanker would break things off with me) that I had overdone it.

And I was right, as my next day at work I was pretty hungover. Luckily Benny had decided to spend the evening with his friend so I was free to go home and take a nap until later that night when we were to meet up. Since neither of us could afford the ridic E Zoo tickets, we decided go to one of the afterparties at Pacha to see Fatboy Slim. I was a little nervous, since it was just going to be us and we had only hung out a couple times. So I made a fatal mistake—drinking 4loko on the subway on the way to meet him. I should have known better, since I have never fared well on the nights I decide to drink this poison beverage. It started out seemingly harmless though. Benny and I were getting along well, just as we always had. We had a couple drinks when we got inside and I should've known I was taking a turn for the worst when I wasn't even on the lookout for any outrageous looking guido's, which Pacha was infamous for. Once FBS came on we headed down and I did my traditional M.O.--get drunk, listen to DJ's and makeout. I was doing a great job until I noticed that my phone was not in my purse. I kept digging, as Longchamps tend to swallow them up, but it was not in there. This was around the same time that Benny later told me I had started to sway a bit and he was having to hold me up. It sounded eerily similar to Paul Van Dyk over the 4^th of July, but not quite so bad, if you can believe it. After an unsuccessful search of the place for my phone, which Benny aided me in, I decided all I was lost. I burst into tears. I somehow was able to speak to the manager and I remember standing there, dabbing at my eyes like a mourning mother, swearing to him that someone had stolen my phone. He was understanding and took down my info but I never saw that phone again (RIP). Luckily Benny convinced me to stay for the rest of the set, and we had fun, though I can't remember much of it. We stumbled out at roughly 5am and took the subway back to my apartment. I figured at that point Benny must've been fairly horrified by my behavior but he didn't argue when I told him I was too lazy to blow up his air mattress. Scandalous behavior followed, but in light of what was to happen with Ibanker, I think I am ok with it. We didn't leave my apartment until 5pm the next day, besides a short trip to get food and provisions (where I know Benny was concerned about my neighborhood). I was finally not hungover and I was heading straight to the Verizon store in Soho to attempt to get a replacement phone. Benny and I parted ways and I was pleased to find that it was not at all awkward. A trip to Soho and then up to Columbia finally yielded me a new phone. I called JM to see what she was up to for the night and ended up heading back down to the West Village to meet up with her. After getting traditionally lost, I met her at the bar. I was slightly horrified to see she was with two guys she had just met—Australians. I have had multiple bad experiences with Australian men. I find them to be extremely pushy and just after one thing and they arrogantly think they can get it because they have an accent (as is the case with most foreign men). But JM is so nice that she will talk to anyone and she also has not experienced this Australian predator the way I have. I was too tired to fight it though and when he left the bar a bit later I was hoping we could lose them. Wrong, so wrong. They had sniffed out their prey and there was no way they were letting us get away. They followed us to the pizza place next door and accompanied us into Soho. One knew of a good Russian vodka bar and before I knew it, we were being swept into a downstairs bar with Cyrillic writing everywhere. I was hopelessly underdressed but decided to enjoy my vodka cocktail nonetheless. They had of course each picked one of us to concentrate on—divide and conquer. I was fairly grumpy between my excessive drinking and lack of sleep the night before. But when my particular Australian began rubbing my back and attempting to hold my hand I decided enough was enough. I forced JM to make a bathroom trip with me and told her the plan—we were going nowhere else with these guys and we had already made a big mistake by letting them buy us more than one drink. It was going to be tough but we were going to have to squeeze our way out of their iron grip. I waited until we had left the bar and started walking to tell them we were tired and going home. They of course said they had a large hotel room and we could all go back and drink some wine. Absolutely fucking not. I explained this wasn't in the cards for us and maybe we could all hang out the next afternoon. They pushed and pushed. I spotted a subway on the corner and decided that this would be the one we needed to take, even though it was not my line home. I interrupted them mid-sentence and announced this was were we were headed. Before I knew it, the Aussie had my face in his hands and his lips pressed to mine. I tensed, was finally able to pull my face away and gave him a wave and a high-pitched “Bye!” before literally running down the subway stairs, with JM close behind me. We waited awhile and when we finally emerged from the station I was almost surprised to see that they weren't there. We walked up to Union Square where we could catch the L. And in a weird twist, as we were waiting for the train, we randomly ran into the handless friend that JM had brought out with us when we had to run from the Russians—our second time running from foreigners! To be continued....

PS- About two weeks later, I received an email from my Aussie, saying he had a great time with me and to come visit him in Australia any time. I had never given him my email address. This was an exceptional predator and even across the world he was still pushing!

Hurricane Refugee

As “Hurricane” Irene barreled her way up the East Coast, the people of New York City collectively lost their sanity. While stores were being emptied of their bottled water supply, GF and I were making plans for the weekend it was supposed to hit. We wanted to go out in rain boots and ponchos and drink hurricanes. This sounded like a fantastic plan until we realized that the entire subway system was completely shutting down and mandatory evacuations were taking place. I quickly decided that rather than sit in my apartment all weekend, with no cable, no internet, and possibly no power I was going to make a run for Cuse. I booked a bus ticket for early Saturday morning, because CB was evacuating as well and a bus buddy always makes the trip less horrid. However come Friday the entire city was in disarray and I decided maybe it was wise to head out as soon as possible. But not without a last drink, which I got with some coworkers at an after work happy hour. I savored my PBR before hurrying back to my apartment. I ran in, threw some assorted items in my half-packed bag and ran back to the subway. There was an 8:45 bus and I was going for it. As soon as I entered the bus station and saw the chaos I knew this would not be happening. The line was out the door. Annoyed, I resigned myself to the fact that I had to wait in it. I watched the scene around me to pass the time. People were ruthless. A rough-looking lady tried to cut me in line. I told her to go to the end and luckily the guy behind me backed me up or else I may have been boarding the bus with a black eye. I finally was able to get a ticket for the 10:45 bus. To pass the time I decided to get as far away as possible from the bus station since I already felt like I needed to take 4 showers. I wandered Times Square miserably, passing by the Dean & Deluca where Ibanker and I had had a coffee date before I officially moved to NYC. I grabbed a slice of pizza and convinced the pizza guy to charge my phone for me behind the counter. When I finally decided to head to the line to board the bus I was greeted by a terrifying sight. The entire terminal was filled with people and my bus line went all the way to the top of the escalator. It was like the Apocalypse. People were taking everything they owned with them—I saw a guitar, packed up cardboard boxes and even heard from the people in front of me that they saw a guy with a taxidermied wolf. I stood for awhile but my line was at a standstill. It was almost 10:45 and I knew that if I kept waiting I would never make this bus, or any bus for that matter. I decided to go “investigate” towards the front. I chose a girl about my age standing with a couple women and pulled the infamous chat and cut. I felt guilty but this was alleviated when everyone gathered at the doorway anyway and the line eventually disappeared. I was getting more and more packed in and at one point I wasn't even sure if my feet were touching the ground. The ruthlessness continued. The respectable looking woman near my threatened to slap a European girl who had allegedly pushed her. Someone had been trampled in another line as I found out when the paramedics ran by. A group of Jamaican women in front of me were engaged in a very loud and heated argument. I grew pretty concerned when one of them somehow came up with a rusty bent pipe and held it behind her back. Luckily I didn't get to see how that ended as the driver had suddenly begun to check tickets. The mass surged forward. I held tightly onto my bags and squeezed to the side and then up to the front. I made it through and collapsed into a seat, exhausted. My cunning, sneakiness and stamina were key to my ticket out. I arrived in Cuse at roughly 4:30 in the morning, delirious but alive.

The rest of my weekend was fairly uneventful. But I had amenities such as electricity and potable drinking water so I was pleased. I was also delighted in the fact that I was able to drive around wearing sunglasses while the suckers in New York were swimming with the rats. As it turned out the “hurricane” that hit New York was a strong thunderstorm. This really meant that GF and I would not be rafting down the Bowery, even if we had decided to ride out the storm.

After sleeping for roughly half the day, after my early morning arrival, I accompanied my mother to a family bbq, where I drank lots of coffee in preparation for that night's outing. Out downtown, of course, where there were no hurricanes to be found (neither the drink nor the storm). I went with Hassy, eventually meeting up with Mairey, and made the rounds. Despite all the water being discussed, I was dehydrated from the previous night and from the large amount of coffee I had drank. So I got much too drunk. Apparently one of Mairey's guy friends came up to me at some point in the night and offered to buy me a drink. I copped an attitude and rudely declined. I have no memory of this. I also met up with Judgers, which I do remember, and we caught up for a bit. I texted a picture of us to both Ibanker and Yahtzee (guess which one didn't respond), along with a picture of the paraphernalia from the Balkan European country that Judgers very randomly still had in her purse. That's the thing about Cuse—you never know who you will run into. I had been texting with Summer Boo, who was also downtown, and we were attempting to meet up. Now Summer Boo, is one from the distant past. We dated the summer in between my junior and senior year of college, though never putting a title on it. When we both returned to our respective schools, he basically stopped speaking to me, which caused me to be irrationally angry. This reached its peak when for my birthday he had mailed me a flip cup poster, no note, no explanation, just a poster a college freshman would hang in their frat house. This put me over the edge and we didn't speak for years. We had made amends the previous fall and he was even my date on New Years. We hooked up once before I left for New York and it was terribly awkward. Despite this we still texted occasionally, this night being one of those times. I dragged the girls to the bar where he was. He wasn't answering my text and I suddenly spotted him across the room, talking to a blonde girl. In my state I decided this was a blatant insult and ushered the girls out, without even considering that he may be with a group of people (he was). We ended the night, of course, at Nick's Tomato Pie but I was disillusioned when one of the gems inside did not speak to me. Not the most successful night out in Cuse, but you win some you lose some.

That was not the end of Summer Boo and I for the weekend though, no no. As a follow up to some slightly incoherent texts later that night, we arranged to hang out the next day. I decided that dinner would be appropriate, since I was hungry and Ibanker had been failing on his promises to take me to dinner. I chose the sushi place downtown, figuring everyone likes sushi. Turns out Summer Boo had never had it. He was a sport though; he randomly chose something from the menu and of course it turned out to be bright orange with tentacles sticking out of it. We made slightly awkward conversation in between chewing huge portions of sushi. After dinner I accompanied him back to his apartment where we engaged in our tradition of watching episodes of It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Pre-NYC this usually led to us making out but Summer Boo didn't make a move. This may have been because on the car ride over I brought up Ibanker and how he had been blowing me off—to the guy who just paid for my dinner. Very tacky. I didn't really mind though since even if we did get together chances are it would've been horribly awkward like the last time. No hard feelings for Summer Boo and I though, and we have still occasionally been texting.

The rest of the weekend was uneventful for a refugee and on my journey back I had CB as my bus buddy. Amazingly, the city was still standing....

The end of the ibanking era

Yes that's right, we all knew it was coming—the end of Ibanker. Everyone except me. I guess I thought that things could just keep going on the way they were when in reality it was not true. This summer the roller coaster continued. The Hamptons set it off. As the time when his share would begin quickly approached I heard no follow up on my invitation. I was in the midst of my apartment hunting and wanted to know what the hell was going on. I finally asked and it was determined that there was not enough room. I was put off, and became even more so when a few days later I received a text —a spot had opened up in the share and he quoted me a price. I was in shock. I replied that I was under the impression that I would be a guest and I was no longer interested in going. This led to a serious of texts where I expressed my distaste with our situation and he expressed his subsequent confusion. To my surprise he came and met me that very night so we could talk about it. It was an awkward conversation but we each laid our cards out on the table. At the end it was determined that he couldn't commit right now but he liked me and wanted to keep hanging out. I was ok with this—I liked hanging out with him and wanted to keep doing so and I wasn't even sure if I actually wanted him as a boyfriend (drinking problem, no time, massive tooliness—who needs that?). So after this things continued as they were. For awhile, even better, since we both knew what the other was thinking. The texting continued and we hung out a few more times.

During all this, I had slight curveball thrown to me. His friend Yahtzee was beginning to text me a fair amount, asking if I wanted to do things. Now I had gone to his birthday party with Fidel. Ibanker knew this and didn't seem to mind. I still felt weird about hanging out with him though, even though he was one of the original boys from the beach in the Balkan European country last summer. I ended up meeting up with him for a drink once. It was a little awkward but we had fun. And Yahtzee is much more down to earth than Ibanker since he grew up in public housing in Poland instead of a massive house in the Boston suburbs. I was interested to see what our reunion at the Cut Copy concert would bring. Ibanker had invited me months ago; he added me to their email chain with the line “adding ___ because she beat up Deadmau5 in Germany, so if things get weird that will prob be helpful”. But come concert day no plans on where and when to meet had been made. I am a girl who loves a plan so this made me pretty antsy. I ended up waiting outside the concert for about a half hour by myself for these boys to get themselves together and arrive. I was pretty pissed off by the time the first one showed up and even more so when Ibanker waltzed up and announced he had lost his ticket. He of course casually paid double face value from a scalper right before we walked in. Once inside I calmed down a bit, after a Becks and the rest of the party arrived. The concert turned out to be really fun. CC was amazing, as they were at Ultra, and I danced my face off. Ibanker stayed with me the whole time; at one point I was standing in between him and Yahtzee and I could do nothing but chuckle at the ridiculousness. After the show we decided to regroup at a bar down the street. I tried to take my beer with me as we were walking out a security guard told me to throw it away. When I caught back up to them I noticed Ibanker had his phone out. I wasn't trying to look but somehow my bionic vision noticed who he was texting—Emily Evans. He noticed I had returned and quickly put his phone away.

Sidenote: I could not get this incident out of my head. I had a bad feeling. This was made worse when after some research on the part of Fidel and I we discovered she had been in the Hamptons house with him. I have no idea if anything happened between them but I do know this is when the roller coaster began its plummet downward. I knew I couldn't be too upset because it's not like I hadn't been texting other people, I had even hooked up with a couple others. But I still wonder if fucking Emily Evans had something to do with our ending....

We headed to an empty bar down the street where I announced I wanted to sing Ace of Base on the karaoke machine and the boys began yelling “Somebody get this girl some Ace of Base!”. Luckily I was spared. Yahtzee, Ibanker and I hopped in a cab back to Manhattan (I chuckled to myself again as I sat in between them). We met up with Yahtzee's two girl friends in town from Chicago (both Polish, both awesome) and went to an outdoor bar where by the end of the night I was literally eating the rest of our delish hummus platter with a spoon when I thought no one was watching.

Ibanker and I hung out once more after this before the shit hit the fan. It was GF's birthday weekend and I had just left JM and her South Africans. I headed to Soho to meet him at his fav bar Spring Lounge. He was there with some friends, who were pretty tooly but nice. I think. One told me “I like your green dress, and on a Sunday!”. We ordered pizza at the bar and while Ibanker and I were checking the weather on my phone (it was pouring out) a text popped up from the Hot Friend from DC. I know he saw it and I figured we were even. Back at his place, he brought something unexpected up. This led to another talk and it seemed that we might be getting more serious (although still not officially dating). I was surprised but wasn't sure if I should take him seriously or if this was even a good thing. After he said we would get coffee that week, bailed and then didn't follow up on subsequent dinner plans, I knew this was not good. I had a terrible feeling and spent a lot of time stressing. I decided I needed to lay low for awhile. He would still send me stupid texts, but then wouldn't reply when I responded. After he promised dinner and never followed through again I figured he had pretty much moved on.

But of course I cannot let things go so decided to accept the group invitation he sent out to see his friend's band. This was three weeks after I had last seen him. He sent me a short email separately as well so I hoped (dumb) that maybe all was not lost. I chose my outfit carefully and made a special effort to look good that day. When I met him at the Mercury Lounge things seemed fine. He stood with me and chatted and I was excited to see him. The band were his friends from high school and they were fun. After we went with them to another bar further into the Lower East Side. I should've taken the roach I saw in the bathroom there are a bad omen. I walked in and screamed, yet still peed anyway, screamed again, and ran out. Once back upstairs I continued to have fun until Ibanker said he was going to get going, he had to get up early. I was shocked. There had never been a time when I hadn't gone back with him, no matter how early he had to get up. I had reached my breaking point. My comment “Don't worry about it, I'm used to you blowing me off at this point” led to a slightly heated discussion at the bar, then me crying in a cab. He had accompanied me on my cab ride to the nearest L stop and hopped out with me. We were standing in front of the 1^st ave stop facing each other. I have no idea how long we were there. Things were not going well. He was apologizing but I knew we were not on the same page. I gave him a stiff, quick hug and practically ran down the subway steps before I started crying more. Which I did as soon as I got on the train. Some Russian people down the car were laughing at me as I stood there silently with tears running down my cheeks. Certainly not the highlight of my time in New York. When I was home he called me. Our conversation to solidify our ending. The result of it was my not being able to take his erratic behavior anymore led to him telling me we should probably just be friends since he keeps hurting me. He didn't want there to be any expectations though how he thinks there would not be after 8 months of hanging out must mean he is delusional. I told him that I had plenty of friends and I didn't need any more. I also said plenty of other things and I am at least pleased that I was stern and said what I really thought. But friends. And not even in the true sense of the word, but friends as in we can talk every once in awhile, meaning, when he feels like it. I am of course offended and stupefied and angry and most of all hurt. I know that this wasn't going anywhere and that he was not the greatest but I had grown attached—he was my Mr. Big. New York seems strange without Mr. Big. I will have sour feelings for awhile regarding a lot of the places we had gone together in this city. And I especially will for the Balkan European country of....Croatia.

Beer Gardens and Birthdays

I had been pumped for my weekend back in NYC as there were some good plans on the agenda. My intern friend JM was back in town and she had brought some South Africans with her that she had met on her travels. She had recently begun dating one and he was in town with one of his friends. I obviously wasn’t missing out on a chance to hang out with foreign guys but first I had a previous engagement. When I was in grad school at Cuse and working at that fucking coffee shop there was a guy who used to come in and chat. He was around my age and seemed fairly cool, if not a little nerdy. He is from Manhattan and when I left for NYC made up a list for me of cool bars and restaurants. He had recently checked in with me and said he was going to be in town. I agreed to meet him for a drink at one of the places on the list because, as most of you know, I rarely turn down an invitation. We met in Williamsburg in the pouring rain and I was nervous that this could be very awkward as walked to Radegast, the beer garden there. Luckily, alcohol tends to make most situations much less awkward so as soon as I took a sip from my giant beer stein I was no longer nervous. We sat and chatted for a couple of hours until it was time for me to meet JM and the S.A. boys. I was worried that Coffee would ask to accompany me, but luckily he did not. I then headed over to Meatpacking to meet them at the Standard beer garden, one of my fav bars in New York. The boys seemed nice and had funny little accents, so I liked it. We grabbed our steins and I headed over to reserve a table while they closed out the tab. As soon as I sat down, alone the guys next to me asked if I was there by myself. Because I often cop an attitude with guys at bars for no apparent reason, I replied “Do I look like I would be here by myself??”. Luckily the group came back before the guys could harass me further. We drank our beers and ate a giant pretzel, while chatting,. I began to buddy up with the friend. Suddenly our party was interrupted—a large group of South American men suddenly sat down with us and began to speak to JM. It took me a minute to realize she knew them; they were a group of Uruguayans she had met on the plane back from South America that were visiting New York. They were boisterous and loud and smelled like South America. We decided to head next door to Brass Monkey where we could spread out a bit more. We grabbed a large table at the front where SA Friend and I resumed our conversation while JM and her boy went off with some of the Uruguayans to take shots. The night seemed to fly by. We were about ready to leave when we realized JM was missing. I decided to check the bathrooms and there she was, returning the shots. I was in no place to judge as my last trip to Brass Monkey (with JW and BK) had led to me puking roughly 15 times in 8 hours so I helped her out. When she had somewhat recovered we headed out (the last people to leave the bar) and I led them all in the direction of what I thought was the subway. I was wrong and walked them in completely the wrong direction. They hopped in a cab and I eventually found the subway where I discovered I had to wait 20 minutes. I drunkenly decided to call ibanker to see if his place was available (note that it was 5AM). He didn’t answer. In response to his questioning text in the morning aka a few hours later I lied and told him that a sketchy guy had been harassing me in the subway.

I didn’t have much time to recover as I had to head to meet GF and our friend HH for brunch. She was in town from DC for GF’s birthday festivities. Now it was really hot that day and I was fairly hungover. So of course when I exited the subway I got turned around and once again walked in the wrong direction. By the time I made it to the restaurant I was sweating and about ready to pass out. Eating and good company helped and we spent the rest of the day lounging around GF’s apartment in the a/c until it was time to leave for dinner. We headed to downtown Brooklyn to Vinegar Hill House which we had heard was supposed to be amazing. Unfortunately so had everyone else and we waited for an hour and a half. To pass the time we made fun of a ridiculous looking hipster girl with giant plastic pink glasses. Our food was amazing but it was heavy and the restaurant was hot. By the time we left we were lethargic but awoke immediately when we took a wrong turn on the walk back to the subway and ended up in a very questionable neighborhood. It was filled with public housing and people were everywhere. The three of us stood out so much it was almost comical and I think we were all very relieved when we made it out. We then headed over to Midtown West for something I had been excited about for a very long time—seeing Digitalism, two German DJ’s from Hamburg. We arrived to Terminal 5 and discovered that we were among some of the oldest people there. We nicknamed the whole thing “study hall” and got drinks. Right as they took the stage one of GF’s former coworkers and his wife arrived. They were in their 40s but still liked to party. A lot. GF and HH had hung out with them the night before and while GF was in the bathroom the husband had hinted to HH that he and the wife knew a lot of swingers, and were always down. This obviously creeped her out and she was not happy that they arrived. I didn’t mind at first as they bought me some free drinks but then the questions started. I really wanted to dance and enjoy Dig, because they were awesome but it seemed like every time I turned around the husband was asking me a question in the realm of “So what’s your take on global warming”. Shut it, guy. I walked further into the crowd where I could dance my face off undisturbed. After the show we cabbed it back to the Lower `East Side where we were going to try National Underground, which was the place rando Yahtzee had tried to take me, Fidel and High School. We walked in and at it blew so we turned around and walked right back out. We asked the bitchy door girl for our money back and she copped some major attitude, but luckily the husband harassed her enough that she conceded. We then decided on the old standby, Mystiqrious. Fortunately husband and wife parted ways so they could sing karaoke and we were able to dance freely. Another added bonus to the night was the bartender couldn’t run my card through the machine so all my drinks were free. I was so excited that I high-fived him and scampered out the door. So a successful birthday night for GF, with a reunion of the three of us. We had come from Paris to DC to NYC but always ended the night dancing at a club.

The next day the three of us went for another brunch and then parted ways. I was off to meet up with JM and the South Africans again for their last day in town. I met them at a diner by Penn Station. It wasn’t the best place in town which was proven when I walked into the bathroom and saw a giant, squished roach on the floor, its antennae sticking straight up in the air. I screamed and decided not to pee. After we walked up to Central Park and sat on the rocks. I chatted with SA Friend the whole time. He told me amazing stories about the crazy wildlife in South Africa, complete with leopard hunts and people being maimed by lions. Just as we were deciding where else we should go, the skies opened up and it started to pour. The heat had finally broken but now we were soaked and my green dress was getting clingy. We ran across the street to the Plaza Hotel and into the service entrance where we camped out for a bit. When the rain let up we headed to where there bus was leaving and I bid them farewell. It had been a nice time with them and it’s a shame that I will likely never see SA Friend again. Now back to old news—I was heading to Soho to meet ibanker. To be continued….

Back to DC

This particular weekend I had, on a whim, decided to take a trip back to DC. My new apartment had no internet and it seemed that everyone was going to be out of town, so I figured why not do the same? I arrived to Union Station hungover and exhausted, since the bus was too uncomfortable to get any of the sleep I had been counting on. I was practically a zombie when I reached Fidel's apartment in Chinatown and could barely carry on a conversation as we sat on her rooftop eating Chinese food.

We took our time getting ready, especially since we were locked in the bedroom—Fidel's relationship with PD had deteriorated quickly and they were barely on speaking terms. We were like two caged animals, we quickly grew restless in the room and started to play early 90's dance music and it took us roughly 20 minutes to open a bottle of wine. When we were finally ready to emerge we met AD outside the building and hopped in a cab to 18^th St. Lounge. It was a very random mix of people and there was a fight almost as soon as we walked onto the roofdeck. I was unimpressed. I was also tired from the night before (the infamous Cut Copy concert with the ibankers from the Balkan European country—story soon to come) and not in the greatest mood. I grew drunk and stayed in my own head. I half-heartedly spoke with an Argentinian guy who was part of a group of guys that Fidel and her friend had met. My mood worsened when I learned that this friend was the same girl who had slept with Cute Guy when she and Fidel were in law school. Not only that but she had also slept with the same law school guy that I had hooked up with in Cuse last fall. Now she was flirting heavily with one of the Argentinians. I could barely look at her and was slightly disgusted with both her and myself. Luckily we lost her after we left the bar and we are fairly certain she was accompanied home by her own Latin lover. I don't like to think about it. Fidel, AD and I wandered the streets in search of food and met all sorts of characters on the way, none of whom I wanted to speak with. The savior to my night came from an unexpected place. Once we had given up on finding food, we were trying to hail a cab when a pedicab driver pedaled up to us. He was trying to coerce us into taking the pedicab and after some cut throat negotiations, we decided this was an unorthodox, yet effective way to go home. The three of us squeezed in the back and proceeded to yell and wave to anyone we passed on the streets while the driver blew through every red light on the ride home. The best part of the night by far.

The next day I was (surprise!) hungover, but AD and I left Fidel's early as a fight was brewing between her and PD about how late she had come in the night before and we did not want to be present for it. We proceeded to be lazy POS's for the entire day until it was time to get ready for the next night. We had plans to go to Sticky Rice on H St., which I had never been to before. AD's friend with the same name as me (who had also accompanied us to Benny Benassi the last time I was in DC) joined us as well and I had a feeling it was going to be a good night. This feeling grew stronger when we walked up to the bar and PBR's were only $3. Now Sticky Rice apparently has a reputation for being DC's hipster bar, but now that I am a Brooklynite I didn't see it. I did see that it was pretty awesome though. We managed to snag ourselves a booth where we were able to stand and dance to the early 90's hip hop music videos that were being played. The bar was getting packed and people were joining our booth. One of the members of this group had a familiar sounding European accent. I immediately went over to him and began discussing Germany. He was very receptive to this and we became engrossed in a long conversation about one of my favorite topics—Europe. We were so involved in this that we didn't even notice his friends and Same Name Friend had become involved in a heated argument. I'm still not quite sure what it was about or how it was resolved but when it was time for them to exit our booth, German and I exchanged numbers and I was pleased with my new little friend. Not long after, my friend whom I studied abroad with in Paris came to meet me at the bar. We'll call him Lafaille. He was accompanied by a very attractive friend whom I somehow started talking to while we were waiting for our next round of PBRs. He seemed very nice though I have no recollection of what we talked about. In fact, I kept asking him questions, immediately forgetting his answers, then asking him the same question later in the night. At one point he informed me that his “grandmother with alzheimer's remembered more than I did”. After this comment I knew he was a keeper. Unfortunately I dropped the ball because I was too busy drinking, as usual. After Sticky Rice the group of us headed back to AD's to keep the party going. Once everyone started passing out, Hot Friend and I ended up on the couch. We were spooning and it was delightful and the next thing I knew I had woken up and it was morning. I was alone and I spotted a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor next to me. Dammit! I had missed my chance! I had fallen asleep and unknowingly pushed him off the couch. Luckily he didn't seem to mind so much and we continued texting even after I had left DC. AD and I laid around hungover the entire day watching the Millionaire Matchmaker until it was time for me to head into the city. I was staying with Blumster that night. But first I had plans to meet up with the kid I had made out with at Benny Benassi on my last trip. We met outside the National Portrait Gallery and headed into Chinatown to get ice cream. I was afraid things would be awkward since we had only met once and drunkenly made out. Luckily it was comfortable and I had a good time with him. We walked along the Mall and up to the Capitol Building chatting. At one point he asked me if I had a boyfriend and I was caught so off-guard that I began laughing. Very suave. A cute time though. Once I arrived at Blumster's apartment near H St. we sat around drinking cocktails and watching Youtube videos. The next day we had a cute day of brunch, visiting the Library of Congress and the National Arboretum, and then heading back to Old Town Alexandria where we hung out creepily outside the building where we used to work until we decided to head to a bar we used to go to for happy hours and get food. We had a relaxing day which was followed by another relaxing day hanging out with my old roommate from college. She is married and has a baby and the differences in our lives are comical. So overall my second trip to DC was a success.