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….
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