This was a weekend I had been looking forward to for months. I had planned out my costume wellll in advance (like...in January) and it was the SHIT. The idea wasn't too original--the white swan from the insane movie Black Swan, but the execution--phenomenal, thanks to my mother. She is the craftiest woman alive and this costume was show-stopping, if I don't say so myself.
It looked awesome when it was all complete except there was one bad point. Going to the bathroom took roughly an hour and a half. I discovered this before leaving my apartment when I had to:
1) remove tutu while trying not to stab myself with the pin
2) untie foil wrapped around my stomach (the piece of the mirror--yes I gave away the ending of the movie if you haven't seen it, deal)
3) remove leotard, while trying not to rip off feathers
4) sit basically naked and pee
5) pull up leotard while trying not to rip off feathers
6) retie foil and put tutu back on
This was not a good thing considering I usually go to the bathroom 5-6 times when I go out. I knew where I would be spending most of my time--the bathroom line. What else is new.
I headed into Williamsburg. Polish Princess had some people over to get ready and then we were heading to a party in the neighborhood. After waiting roughly an hour for them to get ready, we left the apartment after midnight--me as the white swan, one girl as a "jill in the box" and the rest all as Day of the Dead themed ladies (which apparently is a very popular costume in New York).
We walked to the party to find it was in an old warehouse. My first warehouse party in New York! I was excited until we walked in and discovered that we were pretty much the only ones in costumes. Apparently hipsters are too cool to even celebrate Halloween appropriately. I grabbed a drink and headed straight to the bathroom line. Once it was my turn I felt bad knowing that I was for once going to be that girl who took forever in the bathroom. I reassembled and decided to step out into the entryway to put my tutu back on and let whoever was next go ahead. Of course it was creeper of the century's turn, who asked me TWICE if I needed help while looking me up and down. Totally fine SIR. He then followed me back into the party and proceeded to stare at me from the corner where he stood alone. Luckily the girls formed a protective circle around me. We attracted lots of friends that night, since whenever we walked through the crowd, Jill in the Box hit everyone with her giant box. As if it wasn't hard enough to notice the only group of girls in ridiculous costumes. I talked to no one memorable, though I did get lots of compliments on my costume. You're goddamn right it's awesome. Other highlights of my bathroom trips included leaving behind my clutch and luckily having some nice soul run after me to give it back and doing free drugs with a random guy. Yes, this is my life. We then left, went to Zablowski's where I thought I was going to puke in the bathroom. On my subway ride home at 5AM I, in my haze, overheard some teenagers down the car saying "Look, no, she's the white swan, the good swan!". I wanted to turn and smile, but was pretty sure I couldn't even manage that. Once again, Williamsburg's charms takes their toll.
The next day I slept til mid-afternoon. When I rolled out of bed I discovered that the weather was indeed, complete shit, as had been predicted. I trucked out to get a sandwich and it was worse than it looked. Hail, mixed with snow, all being tossed about by a strong wind. Slush was everywhere and I was very worried about how my costume was going to hold up that night. After housing my sandwich I decided I would deal with it later and went back to bed for another few hours. I had planned this day to be a complete waste so I was not too disappointed in myself when I got up in time to start getting ready again. I was not excited about the idea of going to the bathroom with this costume on again, nor was I about the winter wonderland outside. I was pulled between two plans for the night. Party-hopping with GF or one party with Yahtzee and his friends. Unfortunately this party was in Murray Hill (where Cute Guy lives) but despite this I decided to go with them, for fear of messing up my costume. So I tied some plastic bags around my feet and off I went to Yahtzee's apartment in the East Village. I was fairly certain Ibanker would not be involved in the night and luckily I was correct. Yahtzee was delighted with my costume and I equally with his--an 80's basketball player, complete with wig and short shorts. His roommate was also there. I had never met him and he was dressed as a 70s cop. The three of us headed to the subway and I almost had my umbrella ripped out of my hands multiple times. Our first stop would be a pregame at one of the other Croatia guy's cousin's apartments. It was also literally right down the street from Cute Guy's apartment and I walked down the street almost giddy, knowing I was playing with fire. No sightings and we headed inside. I had met this cousin before--she was present at the first Croatia reunion way back when I first moved to NYC. She was very friendly as were her Russian friends and I was made to take multiple shots of free vodka. One of Yahtzee's friends, dressed as a Ferrero Rocher and her friend, a cat or something, joined and the six of us (me, Yahtzee, his roommate, other Croatia guy, Russian Rocher and her friend) headed down the block to the Murray Hill party. The small apartment was packed with people and there were Halloween decorations and candy everywhere. I took a handful and headed straight for the bathroom. It happened to be right in the middle of the party and the lock was faulty so everytime I went, I was terrified that I would be the naked white swan on the toilet. The group kept a good lookout for me though. I also made some friends throughout the night while in line, including with a guy who was dressed as an Angry Bird. Our friendship abruptly ended though when I admitted I thought he was a cardinal. I also was chatting with Russian Rocher and the roommate--another ibanker from Boston. We will call him Deux. Not that late into the night, the rest of the group decided to head out leaving me, Deux and other Croatia guy to fend for ourselves. We had grand plans to go to Webster Hall, which I thought was a good idea since Summer Boo was in town for the weekend and was there. Deux suggested we stop by their apartment on the way and take some shots. 2-3 tequila shots later I was planted on the couch and not moving. I fell asleep during Deux and Croatia guy's convo about business and woke up to discover Croatia guy leaving and Deux's other roommate coming home, accompanied by two mean girls. After one made a bitchy comment about my costume, I agreed to go with Deux into his room. I knew it was a bad decision, but I was tired and drunk and the weather was deplorable. And was the fact that this could be my underhanded way of getting back at Ibanker in my mind?--possibly. I was not about to let things get out of hand though, and informed Deux that if he tried to sleep with me I would punch him. I wasn't kidding around. Although the joke was on me when in the morning, in the light of day with his wig removed, I discovered that Deux was a redhead. Not a complete ginger luckily but it did have an auburn tint to it. Slightly horrified I decided that it was time to leave. I had received a text from Polish Princess saying she was having a brunch before flying out later that afternoon for Argentina. I wanted to try and make it since it was on my way home anyway. I turned down Deux's offer of a brunch and reluctantly changed back into my costume. I even more reluctantly crept into the living room (there was no avoiding it) on my way out where the bitchy girls from last night had slept and were now awake. I walked with my head held high out the front door and down the street towards the subway. Yes, it was my Halloween walk of shame and of course it was now a beautiful sunny day (meaning lots of people were out). I then headed straight to Williamsburg, partly because of time constraints but mostly because I thought it would be funny, where I showed up to brunch looking like the raggedy white swan. Turns out Polish Princess was more concerned with the fact that I had gone to a party in Murray Hill....
I took a day off to catch up on much needed sleep, shower and regain my dignity. I also sent a huge apology to Summer Boo, whom I had completely blown off the night before while he waited for me at Webster Hall. Oh my life. The next day I was recharged and ready for Halloween...actual Halloween. I met Penelope and Salma at a dive bar in the West Village, so we could drink $2 PBR's (unhhhheard of in NYC) before the parade. I was having Mason meet us there. He had been out of town for the weekend and while the boys are away the white swans will play apparently. I had felt guilty, but I have since learned to squelch those feelings. He was dressed in a cowboy hat, sunglasses, fake beard and carried a fake guitar. I have no idea what he supposed to be and I don't think he did either, but people seemed to love it. At the parade everyone wanted to keep taking pictures with him and my jealousy reached a peak when a Black Swan marched by, receiving all sorts of attention. Luckily the couple other White Swans we saw throughout the night were subpar--I "looked much more like a ballerina", as Mason's friend wisely put it. The insanity of the parade was out of control. We debated going to walk in it, but the thought of being stuck in it and having to go to the bathroom led me to veto that idea. We instead headed to go get food, where two girls Mason knew showed up and joined our group (Salma and Penelope had since left, replaced by a group of Mason's friends). They regaled us all with a story of their sighting--a young guy giving an old man a blow job right in the middle of the parade crowd. I almost threw up in my mouth. After, we tried to head to some of the bars near the parade route on Bleecker but it was too much so we headed down a sidestreet and wrapped up our night at the Dove. I went back with Mason that night but luckily was spared ANOTHER Halloween walk of shame the next morning when he loaned me some clothes. This did not prevent me from looking like a hot mess when I walked past Ibanker's work on the way to the subway. Once again playing with fire as a result of yet another crazy weekend in New York.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
Cute Shit
The romance with Mason was continuing. I was pleased--I wasn't thinking as much about Ibanker and we had a good story together as well. I had fun with him and he actually went out and did things with me, rather than the dinner, bar, bedroom scenario I was used to with you know who. He even made me soup when I was sick, the week after "Blast from the Past" weekend. I looked like absolute shit, but decided I could blame it on being sick, even though I really just had a mild cold. I decided to play it up anyway, but I think my cover was blown when I inhaled pretty much all of the soup. After we decided to walk to the store to see if we could find a pumpkin. After Deadmau5 weekend we had decided we were going to carve a pumpkin to look like Deadmau5 and I was pretty pumped for it. We selected a fairly large, very shiny pumpkin and started to walk back to his apartment. But it started to pour and we were getting soaked. He mentioned that one of his favorite bars, Valhalla, was right around the corner and we could pop in for a drink. I hesitated, since I was wearing glasses and no make up, leggings, rainboots and a giant man's shirt that he had loaned me. But I ultimately agreed so we trucked into the bar, soaking wet and carrying a huge pumpkin. We set it down at the table and christened him Joel Zimmerman (Deadmau5's real name, for those of you behind the times). We stayed out too late to carve him that night.
Our next outing was a day trip. Mason had talked about wanting to get out of the city to enjoy a seasonal fall day (mother fucker) so we decided that Dia Beacon would be the easiest trip. It was a large art museum about an hour and a half upstate (what what) and was easy to get there by train. I met him late Friday night at his friends' apartment in Flatiron and then headed back with him to his apartment so we could go to bed early. In the morning we walked over to the Times Square shuttle and I picked up the pace significantly when we walked directly in front of Ibanker's office. I knew he was probably in there and I didn't want a run in. The train ride was relatively peaceful and I took in the scenery in between napping. When we arrived the museum was just a short walk away. We followed a group of people in and I pointed out a stupid hipster wearing a spiderman backpack that a first grader would wear. He was holding a girl's hand and I also commented on what she must be thinking to date him. And just my luck, a couple minutes later she came up to me--I immediately recognized her as an intern from my museum. There was no way she could have heard me, but I was still morified and Mason was having a hard time trying not to laugh. When we were finally out of that awkward situation we walked around the museum. The space was really cool but unfortunately it was very Minimalist, which I know is not everyone's jam, including Mason's. I think the highlight of his trip was laughing over the name "Blinky Palermo".
After the museum we decided to walk through the town in search of food. I think we were both expecting a cool, artsy type town with a lot to do and see. Wrong. The big event of the day was a car show, so the streets were packed with gross loud cars and salt of the earth type people. It was pretty jarring considering where we had just come from and it seemed like there was no escape. Finally we found a Greek diner and went inside to feed our faces. Mason had wanted to go for a little hike and told me to bring appropriate shoes. But since I am so outdoorsy my idea of hiking footwear was a flimsy pair of sneakers, closely resembly Toms. Luckily by this time most of the afternoon had passed and we weren't able to go for that hike. Too bad. On the walk back to the train station we sat by the river for a minute and I was aware that this was a pretty "magic moment" as my friend Lulu would say.
The ride back to the City was much rowdier than before and our car was packed with a loud group of German tourists, a crying baby and someone who kept farting. We distracted ourselves with youtube videos on his ipad. The City was just as chaotic upon our arrival but I think we were both relieved to be back. After a quick nap at his apartment and a game of beer pong with the friends from the night before, I headed out. It was Saturday night and I was meeting GF at a bar in Soho for Polish Princess' bday celebration. She was back in NYC from Syracuse and was going to be heading to South America for a tour very soon. The bar was packed with hipsters and GF and I sat chatting each wearing an animal mask that were the party favors. We grew bored quickly and decided to meet up with his new friend. They were at a bar in the West Village, and I was nervous to discover it was on Ibanker's street, though a few blocks down. I obviously did not see him and I knew that I wouldn't but I was pissed off that he was still creeping around in the back of my mind. GF's friends were hilarious and I was disappointed when they split up and GF decided to head home. To my surprise, I had a text from Mason asking if I was still out. I decided to splurge on a cab and headed back to Soho--he was at a bar not far from the party. I went in, drunkenly looked around, couldn't find him and texted him to tell him I was leaving. I then headed out to meet back up with PP. On the way he called me and apologized for not seeing me. I said maybe we would meet up later and I walked with PP over to her friend's apartment--the Soho Penthouse apartment where we had gone to the beautiful people party over the summer (the Lace night). The apartment was still as ridiculous as ever and I texted Mason to meet me. When he arrived he headed out to the wraparound balcony. There was some construction taking place and the view was not very good, so we climbed up the ladder (very precarious in my platform booties) to the scaffolding where we sat for almost an hour drinking, chatting and taking in the view of the Financial District. It looked very suspicious when we came back inside and I played it up by telling PP we had just had sex (not true at all). We left, grabbed some empanadas and headed back to Mason's.
And shit got even cuter when a couple days later, Mason came all the way out to the Shwick so we could carve Joel Zimmerman. He looked hilarious walking down my street in a suit, wearing a backpack and carrying a massive orange pumpkin. We drank some hot toddies and transformed Joel into Deadmau5. After setting him on the fire escape, we headed to the hipster bar down the street. On the way I lured over a giant stray cat so I could pet it. It was tentatively trusting and let me until my purse swung around and hit it in the face. Once I had recovered from laughing we drank some beer and recounted our days at Mason. It was a delightful time, and had been a delightful few weeks. Things seemed almost too good to be true....
Before: Joel Zimmerman
After: Deadmau5...or Donkey Kong...whateves we tried
Our next outing was a day trip. Mason had talked about wanting to get out of the city to enjoy a seasonal fall day (mother fucker) so we decided that Dia Beacon would be the easiest trip. It was a large art museum about an hour and a half upstate (what what) and was easy to get there by train. I met him late Friday night at his friends' apartment in Flatiron and then headed back with him to his apartment so we could go to bed early. In the morning we walked over to the Times Square shuttle and I picked up the pace significantly when we walked directly in front of Ibanker's office. I knew he was probably in there and I didn't want a run in. The train ride was relatively peaceful and I took in the scenery in between napping. When we arrived the museum was just a short walk away. We followed a group of people in and I pointed out a stupid hipster wearing a spiderman backpack that a first grader would wear. He was holding a girl's hand and I also commented on what she must be thinking to date him. And just my luck, a couple minutes later she came up to me--I immediately recognized her as an intern from my museum. There was no way she could have heard me, but I was still morified and Mason was having a hard time trying not to laugh. When we were finally out of that awkward situation we walked around the museum. The space was really cool but unfortunately it was very Minimalist, which I know is not everyone's jam, including Mason's. I think the highlight of his trip was laughing over the name "Blinky Palermo".
After the museum we decided to walk through the town in search of food. I think we were both expecting a cool, artsy type town with a lot to do and see. Wrong. The big event of the day was a car show, so the streets were packed with gross loud cars and salt of the earth type people. It was pretty jarring considering where we had just come from and it seemed like there was no escape. Finally we found a Greek diner and went inside to feed our faces. Mason had wanted to go for a little hike and told me to bring appropriate shoes. But since I am so outdoorsy my idea of hiking footwear was a flimsy pair of sneakers, closely resembly Toms. Luckily by this time most of the afternoon had passed and we weren't able to go for that hike. Too bad. On the walk back to the train station we sat by the river for a minute and I was aware that this was a pretty "magic moment" as my friend Lulu would say.
The ride back to the City was much rowdier than before and our car was packed with a loud group of German tourists, a crying baby and someone who kept farting. We distracted ourselves with youtube videos on his ipad. The City was just as chaotic upon our arrival but I think we were both relieved to be back. After a quick nap at his apartment and a game of beer pong with the friends from the night before, I headed out. It was Saturday night and I was meeting GF at a bar in Soho for Polish Princess' bday celebration. She was back in NYC from Syracuse and was going to be heading to South America for a tour very soon. The bar was packed with hipsters and GF and I sat chatting each wearing an animal mask that were the party favors. We grew bored quickly and decided to meet up with his new friend. They were at a bar in the West Village, and I was nervous to discover it was on Ibanker's street, though a few blocks down. I obviously did not see him and I knew that I wouldn't but I was pissed off that he was still creeping around in the back of my mind. GF's friends were hilarious and I was disappointed when they split up and GF decided to head home. To my surprise, I had a text from Mason asking if I was still out. I decided to splurge on a cab and headed back to Soho--he was at a bar not far from the party. I went in, drunkenly looked around, couldn't find him and texted him to tell him I was leaving. I then headed out to meet back up with PP. On the way he called me and apologized for not seeing me. I said maybe we would meet up later and I walked with PP over to her friend's apartment--the Soho Penthouse apartment where we had gone to the beautiful people party over the summer (the Lace night). The apartment was still as ridiculous as ever and I texted Mason to meet me. When he arrived he headed out to the wraparound balcony. There was some construction taking place and the view was not very good, so we climbed up the ladder (very precarious in my platform booties) to the scaffolding where we sat for almost an hour drinking, chatting and taking in the view of the Financial District. It looked very suspicious when we came back inside and I played it up by telling PP we had just had sex (not true at all). We left, grabbed some empanadas and headed back to Mason's.
And shit got even cuter when a couple days later, Mason came all the way out to the Shwick so we could carve Joel Zimmerman. He looked hilarious walking down my street in a suit, wearing a backpack and carrying a massive orange pumpkin. We drank some hot toddies and transformed Joel into Deadmau5. After setting him on the fire escape, we headed to the hipster bar down the street. On the way I lured over a giant stray cat so I could pet it. It was tentatively trusting and let me until my purse swung around and hit it in the face. Once I had recovered from laughing we drank some beer and recounted our days at Mason. It was a delightful time, and had been a delightful few weeks. Things seemed almost too good to be true....
Monday, November 21, 2011
Blast from the Past
After the Deadmau5 weekend, things with Mason and I began to pick up. Nothing like fake tickets and drugs to solidify a relationship. We had another date that week and had our first kiss outside of the 3rd ave subway stop. A couple nights later I met up with him and some of his friends at the Empire Hotel rooftop (where I had gone for the 4th of July), with GF. This was not part of our plan for the night, but things had taken an unexpected turn. GF and I had gone to see my fav Danish dj, Trentemoller, early in the night at Webster Hall. He wasn't quite as good as he had been when I saw him at Ultra and in Germany but it was still a good show to be at, especially since the people-watching was an interesting mix of Europeans and hipsters. After GF and I had finished chuckling at the giant Nordic viking queen standing in front of us, we decided that we could probably stay for the second show of that night. We were already in, so why should we have to pay again, as long as we didn't leave.We headed to the bar in between sets and no one kicked us out. We began chatting with the bartender and when it got to be close to the starting time of the next dj, GF decided he was going to run out and have a cigarette. I knew this was a bad idea, but he promised he would be sneaky and before I could stop him he turned to leave. Well, what a surprise, the bouncers refused to let GF back in and sent him to the back of the very long line. I was annoyed but kept chatting with the bartender. Two free vodka crans, one free shot and one phone number later, I finally emerged when it was established that GF was definitely not getting back in. In my state, I had even considered staying alone but luckily a text from Mason convinced me otherwise. And this is how we ended up at the Empire. Upon our entrance I very enthusiastically began to make out with Mason in front of most of his friends. And I was not the only one in that mindset--a bit later Mason and I discovered GF in a corner making out with...a girl. Things were getting weird and it was time to leave. Mason and I grabbed some late night pizza and headed back to his place. In the morning, he made me a glorious breakfast of bacon, eggs and fried potatoes. He said he had the day free so we lounged around and finally decided to take a walk in Central Park. I was a bit embarrassed since I was still sporting the fish nets I had worn the night before and I definitely didn't look like I should be taking a leisurely afternoon walk amongst families. At one point we sat on a bench and I read aloud a very seasonal article entitled "It's Decorative Gourd Season, Motherfuckers" (see it here: http://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/its-decorative-gourd-season-motherfuckers) Very romantic.
We eventually made our way to Shake Shack (the second time in one week for us) and fed our faces. I then put our day date to an end as I had to get home and get ready (aka change out of my fishnets) for my night out. I was meeting Penelope and Salma at their cousin's birthday party at a bar in Hell's Kitchen. She was a true Long Island Princess and had invited 100 of her Long Island friends. I couldn't wait to scope out the people watching, as that lifestyle is completely foreign to me. When the cousin arrived, she screamed and danced over to us, her large boobs all over the place. It was just as good as I could have imagined. She then had her very skinny, very tan friend join us so they could recount, in their thick accents, their train ride into in Penn Station for us. Apparently the cousin was very drunk and had yelled to the friend "I like your pink vagina!". The cousin burst out laughing and informed us "I meant to say undawear, I like your pink undawear!!". I was dying and wanted to hear more but she bounced quickly away to attend to her other guests. That left the three of us, Salma's boyfriend, and their mutual friend to take in the whole scene from our table. This grew increasingly amusing as we consumed more of the very strong drinks. It was an open bar and I was too poor to pay for it, but everyone was able to sneak me drinks without a problem, so drink away we did. Salma had at the beginning of the night said she had invited one of the curators from our museum to join the party and she was surprised, and a bit worried, when he actually agreed. Awhile later, completely forgetting this detail, I noticed a skinny, nerdy looking man amongst the Long Island party-goers. And like an idiot, I yelled to Salma, "Hey, did that fucking guy get lost!". She looked at me wide-eyed, and then waved him over. I realized what I had done and began to uncontrollably laugh but luckily regained my composure before he made it over to us.
The night continued in much the same way (good laughs, strong drinks= a recipe for success). I then decided to part ways and clomped back over to Mason's apartment in my platform booties. It was looking like I had a new chapter on my hands....
We eventually made our way to Shake Shack (the second time in one week for us) and fed our faces. I then put our day date to an end as I had to get home and get ready (aka change out of my fishnets) for my night out. I was meeting Penelope and Salma at their cousin's birthday party at a bar in Hell's Kitchen. She was a true Long Island Princess and had invited 100 of her Long Island friends. I couldn't wait to scope out the people watching, as that lifestyle is completely foreign to me. When the cousin arrived, she screamed and danced over to us, her large boobs all over the place. It was just as good as I could have imagined. She then had her very skinny, very tan friend join us so they could recount, in their thick accents, their train ride into in Penn Station for us. Apparently the cousin was very drunk and had yelled to the friend "I like your pink vagina!". The cousin burst out laughing and informed us "I meant to say undawear, I like your pink undawear!!". I was dying and wanted to hear more but she bounced quickly away to attend to her other guests. That left the three of us, Salma's boyfriend, and their mutual friend to take in the whole scene from our table. This grew increasingly amusing as we consumed more of the very strong drinks. It was an open bar and I was too poor to pay for it, but everyone was able to sneak me drinks without a problem, so drink away we did. Salma had at the beginning of the night said she had invited one of the curators from our museum to join the party and she was surprised, and a bit worried, when he actually agreed. Awhile later, completely forgetting this detail, I noticed a skinny, nerdy looking man amongst the Long Island party-goers. And like an idiot, I yelled to Salma, "Hey, did that fucking guy get lost!". She looked at me wide-eyed, and then waved him over. I realized what I had done and began to uncontrollably laugh but luckily regained my composure before he made it over to us.
The night continued in much the same way (good laughs, strong drinks= a recipe for success). I then decided to part ways and clomped back over to Mason's apartment in my platform booties. It was looking like I had a new chapter on my hands....
Monday, November 14, 2011
Deadmau5 Weekend Part 2
After our epic Deadmau5 night out, Same Name Friend, Mason and I weren't able to function until early the next afternoon. We sat around and recapped the night and then finally Same Name Friend and I headed out. We were meeting AD, Charlie Kelly and Bawseton. As we stumbled out into the mid-afternoon sun, we were very aware that we stood out in our bright neon clothing, even in New York City. We sheepishly made our way to the subway and to the restaurant where they were having brunch.They apparently were unaware that this particular place had a drag queen brunch on Sunday mornings. With some of the best people watching in New York, we sat around and did some more recapping. Apparently after they left Yaffa and Charlie Kelly and AD went to bed, Bawseton couldn't sleep. This is clearly because he had taken 3 mawli pills throughout the course of the night. He then decided to walk 40 blocks up to Central Park and then back again before finally stumbling back into the apartment and passing out (like a bawse). The girls and I were starving (the boys had finished eating by the time we arrived) so we headed up to the Chiptole in Union Square. This happens to be directly across the street from Ibanker's old apartment and I felt slightly creepy basically sitting right outside. I had a full view of the floor to ceiling window in his room, a place where I had spent many nights. Luckily I had a delicious burrito bowl and good company to distract me. The boys had said they'd catch up to us, but they were taking much too long. The reason being, we later found out, was they had been distracted following a guy who was carrying a huge boombox blasting Nas down the street. We decided to head back to Brooklyn so that Same Name Friend and I could finally change out of our neon.
We had another night out ahead of us, but Same Name Friend wouldn't be joining. She was going to be meeting up with her mystery cop in Murray Hill. So AD and I trucked back in and met the boys at Flatiron Lounge. The entrance is a large tunnel with wooden floors. AD and I were both wearing heels and when we clomped in, it sounded like a caravan of horses had arrived at the bar. We sat and ordered fancy drinks and I tried to ignore the fact that this seemed like a double-date. Luckily Bawseton was very interesting and socialable and we were able to chat fairly comfortably. Charlie Kelly had befriended the bartender who gave us a free shot of fancy whiskey as a departing gift. The boys were set on going to Sidebar, which is where they had spent the evening once we bailed for Brooklyn. They had basically been drinking for 36 hours straight at this point, so it was probably a good thing that Sidebar was closed. So where did this lead us--Webster Hall, once again. The cover was a bit more reasonable this time, but I would've paid the money to not go. It was in the basement with horrible, amateur dubstep blasting and a bunch of gross people dancing on a stage. There was a guy screaming into a microphone, yelling things about buttholes. This is not a lie. There was also someone waving around a big black dildo, which I was convinced was a rubber snake, until AD informed me otherwise. The only good thing about this place was the cheap beer, so I drank a bunch to be able to deal. I also felt terrible for inviting Yahtzee--he had sent me a text earlier in the day asking what I was doing and I made the mistake of inviting him to that hellhole. When he showed up, I was a few beers deep. I blame this on the fact that I spilled basically everything about the Ibanker fiasco to him. He played it safe and said pretty generic stuff. I was a little annoyed that he didn't give me anything to work with, but he probably knew less about Ibanker's ways than I did, to be honest. Lucky for me, he didn't judge and accompanied us to the next bar--Solas. A repeat of the night before. We once again closed out the bar, and this is where Yahtzee left us, probably annoyed that the boys were so drunk. They somehow convinced me to go back to Charlie Kelly's apartment with them. In the cab on the way over, Charlie Kelly decided to inform the cab driver that he should turn the wrong way down a one-way street because "it is fine at this time of night". The cab driver retorted back that "it was illegal no matter what the time", with the three of us cracking up in the backseat.
I hung around with them til 5AM, which was when my subway line was scheduled to start running again. Here's where things escalated. Now Bawseton had been sharing Charlie Kelly's studio apartment with both him and AD for the weekend. Needless to say, this must have been kind of an awkward situation. So as I went to make my exit, Bawseton quickly asked me if he could stay on my couch in Brooklyn. Surprised, I agreed and before I knew what was happening we were walking down the street towards the subway. And apparently as we made our exit Charlie Kelly told AD that it was "so bawse, such a bawse move" on the part of Bawseton. Once back in the Shwick, we both ended up sleeping in my bed, but Bawseton was surprisingly gentlemanly and did not make a move. Though I did sleep in the same bed with two different guys two nights in a row, I convinced myself that I was ok since nothing even remotely sexual happened with either of them. In the morning (ok afternoon) Bawseton and I went through pics on his phone of Charlie Kelly's stepdad's boat which they apparently sail back and forth between Nantucket and Monte Carlo (and is obviously, pretty fucking bawse). He also told me a story about when he punctured his lung skiing in Colorado. Not long after storytime, he headed back to Flatiron and I waited for Same Name Friend to return from her night out so I could escort her back to the bus. She was pretty late because she had had to yell at the cab driver who tried to take her to Chinatown instead of Brooklyn. Completely different buroughs, buddy.
I accompanied the girls on the walk to the bus and then met up again with Bawseton. He was supposed to leave that afternoon as well but all the buses back to Boston were sold out. Looks like he was stranded in New York and stuck hanging out with me, since Charlie Kelly had to work. He had a bus booked for later that evening but he decided to not show as our afternoon bar tour went into the evening. I eventually had to go meet JM by NYU for her bday dinner. I was planning on meeting back up with Bawseton later at (of course) Sidebar, but he got back to me too late and that was the end of our hour 18 romance. He did send me a couple texts later that week saying:
1) "You are always welcome to come to Boston....because guess what? It is BAWSE"
And the second, for his second show of the week:
2) "Guess who is on their way to Deadmau5 right now....like a BAWSE"
Hopefully he only took one pill that time.
We had another night out ahead of us, but Same Name Friend wouldn't be joining. She was going to be meeting up with her mystery cop in Murray Hill. So AD and I trucked back in and met the boys at Flatiron Lounge. The entrance is a large tunnel with wooden floors. AD and I were both wearing heels and when we clomped in, it sounded like a caravan of horses had arrived at the bar. We sat and ordered fancy drinks and I tried to ignore the fact that this seemed like a double-date. Luckily Bawseton was very interesting and socialable and we were able to chat fairly comfortably. Charlie Kelly had befriended the bartender who gave us a free shot of fancy whiskey as a departing gift. The boys were set on going to Sidebar, which is where they had spent the evening once we bailed for Brooklyn. They had basically been drinking for 36 hours straight at this point, so it was probably a good thing that Sidebar was closed. So where did this lead us--Webster Hall, once again. The cover was a bit more reasonable this time, but I would've paid the money to not go. It was in the basement with horrible, amateur dubstep blasting and a bunch of gross people dancing on a stage. There was a guy screaming into a microphone, yelling things about buttholes. This is not a lie. There was also someone waving around a big black dildo, which I was convinced was a rubber snake, until AD informed me otherwise. The only good thing about this place was the cheap beer, so I drank a bunch to be able to deal. I also felt terrible for inviting Yahtzee--he had sent me a text earlier in the day asking what I was doing and I made the mistake of inviting him to that hellhole. When he showed up, I was a few beers deep. I blame this on the fact that I spilled basically everything about the Ibanker fiasco to him. He played it safe and said pretty generic stuff. I was a little annoyed that he didn't give me anything to work with, but he probably knew less about Ibanker's ways than I did, to be honest. Lucky for me, he didn't judge and accompanied us to the next bar--Solas. A repeat of the night before. We once again closed out the bar, and this is where Yahtzee left us, probably annoyed that the boys were so drunk. They somehow convinced me to go back to Charlie Kelly's apartment with them. In the cab on the way over, Charlie Kelly decided to inform the cab driver that he should turn the wrong way down a one-way street because "it is fine at this time of night". The cab driver retorted back that "it was illegal no matter what the time", with the three of us cracking up in the backseat.
I hung around with them til 5AM, which was when my subway line was scheduled to start running again. Here's where things escalated. Now Bawseton had been sharing Charlie Kelly's studio apartment with both him and AD for the weekend. Needless to say, this must have been kind of an awkward situation. So as I went to make my exit, Bawseton quickly asked me if he could stay on my couch in Brooklyn. Surprised, I agreed and before I knew what was happening we were walking down the street towards the subway. And apparently as we made our exit Charlie Kelly told AD that it was "so bawse, such a bawse move" on the part of Bawseton. Once back in the Shwick, we both ended up sleeping in my bed, but Bawseton was surprisingly gentlemanly and did not make a move. Though I did sleep in the same bed with two different guys two nights in a row, I convinced myself that I was ok since nothing even remotely sexual happened with either of them. In the morning (ok afternoon) Bawseton and I went through pics on his phone of Charlie Kelly's stepdad's boat which they apparently sail back and forth between Nantucket and Monte Carlo (and is obviously, pretty fucking bawse). He also told me a story about when he punctured his lung skiing in Colorado. Not long after storytime, he headed back to Flatiron and I waited for Same Name Friend to return from her night out so I could escort her back to the bus. She was pretty late because she had had to yell at the cab driver who tried to take her to Chinatown instead of Brooklyn. Completely different buroughs, buddy.
I accompanied the girls on the walk to the bus and then met up again with Bawseton. He was supposed to leave that afternoon as well but all the buses back to Boston were sold out. Looks like he was stranded in New York and stuck hanging out with me, since Charlie Kelly had to work. He had a bus booked for later that evening but he decided to not show as our afternoon bar tour went into the evening. I eventually had to go meet JM by NYU for her bday dinner. I was planning on meeting back up with Bawseton later at (of course) Sidebar, but he got back to me too late and that was the end of our hour 18 romance. He did send me a couple texts later that week saying:
1) "You are always welcome to come to Boston....because guess what? It is BAWSE"
And the second, for his second show of the week:
2) "Guess who is on their way to Deadmau5 right now....like a BAWSE"
Hopefully he only took one pill that time.
Deadmau5 Weekend Part 1
My trip to Cuse the weekend before had given me a time to relax before the shitstorm of Columbus Day weekend (remember the rule about 3 day weekends). This storm was carrying two out of town guests--AD and Same Name Friend. Deadmau5 was playing in the city that weekend and they had somehow convinced me to pay a ridiculous amount of money for a ticket to see him, even though we had for free roughly a month before. I was a bit suspicious that this plan had come about due to Charlie Kelly--he lives in NYC as well and he and AD had been talking quite a bit since their rendezvous at Freefest. We actually headed straight to his place in Flatiron once I retrieved the girls from the bus. The four of us hung out for a bit until we headed to some dive bar near Union Square. Of course because we were in the neighborhood, we passed by many of the places Ibanker had gone to together--stops on what I like to call my Date Tour of New York. Once at the bar AD and Charlie Kelly fell deep into conversation, so Same Name Friend and I sat bitching about guys. We were both lamenting the fact that it is basically impossible to seperate your emotions from your reasoning. For example, I knew that Ibanker was not right for me and that we would have never worked. But it was still proving difficult to get over it, since I liked him. On a more positive note, Same Name Friend was slightly excited about a DC cop had met online, who coincidentally happened to be in New York that weekend as well. She was toying with the idea of meeting up with him.We also bonded when two of Charlie Kelly's friends came running into the bar to purchase some "favors" from him. They were exceptionally tooly and Same Name Friend and I both exclaimed "oh good lord" at the same moment. Not long after this we decided to head back to Brooklyn, which started my weekend pattern of screaming at cab drivers. They claimed they knew where to take us and then as soon as the crossed the bridge they had no idea and started to demand directions from me. I have no effing idea, as I don't drive in New York, hence why I was taking a cab. At one point the driver was so upset that he pulled over, in a very shady neighborhood not far from mine, and demanded we get out. I told him absolutely not and he better turn off the meter until he figured out where he was going. We eventually made it back in one piece---a fabulous introduction to "East Williamsburg" for Same Name Friend.
And she was really able to see the hood in all its glory the next morning when we headed down the block to the natural grocery store to get some breakfast sandwiches. The weather was exceptionally nice out so we sat outside and hipster-watched. After, we got ourselves together and geared ourselves up for the trek into the city to meet AD and Charlie Kelly. My subway line was obnoxiously not running again that weekend so we were forced to take a bus to another line that was working. The bumpy ride made my hangover even worse and it was a relief when we emerged into fresh air in Meatpacking roughly an hour later. We wanted to take advantage of the nice weather before meeting them at the Standard Beer Garden, and I wanted to put off drinking as long as possible, so we took our time walking the Highline (a former railroad line that has been turned into an outdoor space and walkway along the Hudson--one of my fav places in New York). We frolicked in the fountains until finally reaching the end and heading to the Standard Bier Garden. Once we made it through the line we headed into the crowd and found the two of them, plus Charlie Kelly's friend who was in town from Boston and also staying with him for the weekend. He was short, cute and hilarious, especially when interacting with Charlie Kelly. Their chosen word of the weekend was "boss", but pronounced "bawse". Everything was either bawse, like a bawse, or pretty fucking bawse. That being said, we will name the friend Bawseton. We sat with our beer steins chatting, and the girls and I devoured a giant pretzel that was offered to us by a stranger. Some more of Charlie Kelly's friends joined us, another likeable couple, and we rewalked the Higline into Chelsea to grab some dinner. Deadmau5 time was quickly approaching and we needed to have our games faces on. On the walk back to Flatiron, we passed by either Kevin Bacon or Ethan Hawke eating dinner outside with his family. Once at Charlie Kelly's the likeable couple left us and the rest of us donned our neon and glowsticks in preparation. I was especially excited about a giant neon star wand I was bringing. We then headed up to Midtown West, for a pregame at Mason's apartment.....
Backstory: Mason and I had finally gotten together the previous Thursday night. We had our date in the MoMA sculpture garden, where we had sat chatting with our drinks. We then headed to another outdoor bar in the neighborhood where I insisted he order a terrible German beer they had on tap, which I hadn't seen since my time in Germany. We had hit it off surprisingly well, especially considering we hadn't really had a conversation since our English class 6 years prior. When I told him about Deadmau5 that weekend, he seemed excited, especially since the venue was literally right next door to his apartment. He asked if he could join us and invited us all over to his place before....
Once there we played some beer pong and took some shots, among other things, before heading over. The girls and I had had Charlie Kelly buy our tickets for us off of Craigslist. He had mentioned that when he purchased them the situation seemed a little shady. And shady it was--I was the last to get through security (they took my wand away!) and when I finally met up with the rest of them, Same Name Friend was yelling that our tickets were fake. I was horrified. We all regrouped and decided that our only option was to try the tickets from the scalper outside, no matter how shady. I only had a bit of cash with me so Mason ended up covering the cost of most of my ticket and I felt so bad. I'm sure he regretted his decision to join us. Luckily, these were real and it ended up being the best Deadmau5 show I have seen. The lights were amazing, although they probably contributed to my paranoia (that and the mix of assorted substances in my system). We all had a good time and danced our faces off. Same Name Friend was dancing with one of Charlie Kelly's other friends, dance being the close enough word. He was wasted and wearing a viking hat. He kept swaying back and forth violently and dragging her along with him. I don't know how she didn't get sick. She informed us afterwards that one point he started squeezing her boobs to the beat and that is when she had had enough.
After the show, when we were able to get ourselves together and regroup, we decided on our next move. Charlie Kelly was very adamant about Webster Hall so we took cabs there. Except upon our arrival, the cover was $40. Charlie Kelly didn't mind this, so he, AD and Bawseton headed on in. The rest of us are on a budget so Same Name Friend, Mason and I headed over to Solas, a bar nearby. The three of us sat at the bar and probably all felt sufficiently awkward. Same Name Friend began to chat with the bartender at the same time I realized I was still decked out in multiple glowstick bracelets. We stayed until well past last call and within that time Same Name Friend had somehow coordinated with her mystery cop who was in town. Mason decided we should all head to Yaffa Cafe and that he could meet us there. Yaffa is an all-night diner with the most insane decor. And I had actually been there before way back in January, on the awkward double-date with Hipster and his friend whom I had hooked up with in high school. So we all gathered there at roughly 6AM. The three of us trucked over from Solas and immediately ordered breakfast food. Then Mystery Cop and his friend (a cop in the Bronx, need I say more) joined us. Luckily it wasn't too awkward since he and Same Name Friend hit it off immediately. Then eventually AD, Charlie Kelly and Bawseton wandered in, all three looking like death. Our randomly pieced together table and another of trannys who had just gotten off work (one was in a sparkly hoodie) were the only tables in the restaurant. Despite this it seemed like we were there forever. The groups slowly trickled out and headed back to our respective places. Because it was so late/early, I hesitantly accepted Mason's invite for the two of us to stay at his place. Same Name Friend had his roommate's room all to herself, but she later told me that she couldn't sleep at all because she was too afraid he would come home to find a random black girl in his bed. My initial qualms about staying over proved to be in vain, as Mason respectfully did not try to make a move. So after one of my longest nights ever in New York, we finally fell asleep, well after it was light out.
And she was really able to see the hood in all its glory the next morning when we headed down the block to the natural grocery store to get some breakfast sandwiches. The weather was exceptionally nice out so we sat outside and hipster-watched. After, we got ourselves together and geared ourselves up for the trek into the city to meet AD and Charlie Kelly. My subway line was obnoxiously not running again that weekend so we were forced to take a bus to another line that was working. The bumpy ride made my hangover even worse and it was a relief when we emerged into fresh air in Meatpacking roughly an hour later. We wanted to take advantage of the nice weather before meeting them at the Standard Beer Garden, and I wanted to put off drinking as long as possible, so we took our time walking the Highline (a former railroad line that has been turned into an outdoor space and walkway along the Hudson--one of my fav places in New York). We frolicked in the fountains until finally reaching the end and heading to the Standard Bier Garden. Once we made it through the line we headed into the crowd and found the two of them, plus Charlie Kelly's friend who was in town from Boston and also staying with him for the weekend. He was short, cute and hilarious, especially when interacting with Charlie Kelly. Their chosen word of the weekend was "boss", but pronounced "bawse". Everything was either bawse, like a bawse, or pretty fucking bawse. That being said, we will name the friend Bawseton. We sat with our beer steins chatting, and the girls and I devoured a giant pretzel that was offered to us by a stranger. Some more of Charlie Kelly's friends joined us, another likeable couple, and we rewalked the Higline into Chelsea to grab some dinner. Deadmau5 time was quickly approaching and we needed to have our games faces on. On the walk back to Flatiron, we passed by either Kevin Bacon or Ethan Hawke eating dinner outside with his family. Once at Charlie Kelly's the likeable couple left us and the rest of us donned our neon and glowsticks in preparation. I was especially excited about a giant neon star wand I was bringing. We then headed up to Midtown West, for a pregame at Mason's apartment.....
Backstory: Mason and I had finally gotten together the previous Thursday night. We had our date in the MoMA sculpture garden, where we had sat chatting with our drinks. We then headed to another outdoor bar in the neighborhood where I insisted he order a terrible German beer they had on tap, which I hadn't seen since my time in Germany. We had hit it off surprisingly well, especially considering we hadn't really had a conversation since our English class 6 years prior. When I told him about Deadmau5 that weekend, he seemed excited, especially since the venue was literally right next door to his apartment. He asked if he could join us and invited us all over to his place before....
Once there we played some beer pong and took some shots, among other things, before heading over. The girls and I had had Charlie Kelly buy our tickets for us off of Craigslist. He had mentioned that when he purchased them the situation seemed a little shady. And shady it was--I was the last to get through security (they took my wand away!) and when I finally met up with the rest of them, Same Name Friend was yelling that our tickets were fake. I was horrified. We all regrouped and decided that our only option was to try the tickets from the scalper outside, no matter how shady. I only had a bit of cash with me so Mason ended up covering the cost of most of my ticket and I felt so bad. I'm sure he regretted his decision to join us. Luckily, these were real and it ended up being the best Deadmau5 show I have seen. The lights were amazing, although they probably contributed to my paranoia (that and the mix of assorted substances in my system). We all had a good time and danced our faces off. Same Name Friend was dancing with one of Charlie Kelly's other friends, dance being the close enough word. He was wasted and wearing a viking hat. He kept swaying back and forth violently and dragging her along with him. I don't know how she didn't get sick. She informed us afterwards that one point he started squeezing her boobs to the beat and that is when she had had enough.
After the show, when we were able to get ourselves together and regroup, we decided on our next move. Charlie Kelly was very adamant about Webster Hall so we took cabs there. Except upon our arrival, the cover was $40. Charlie Kelly didn't mind this, so he, AD and Bawseton headed on in. The rest of us are on a budget so Same Name Friend, Mason and I headed over to Solas, a bar nearby. The three of us sat at the bar and probably all felt sufficiently awkward. Same Name Friend began to chat with the bartender at the same time I realized I was still decked out in multiple glowstick bracelets. We stayed until well past last call and within that time Same Name Friend had somehow coordinated with her mystery cop who was in town. Mason decided we should all head to Yaffa Cafe and that he could meet us there. Yaffa is an all-night diner with the most insane decor. And I had actually been there before way back in January, on the awkward double-date with Hipster and his friend whom I had hooked up with in high school. So we all gathered there at roughly 6AM. The three of us trucked over from Solas and immediately ordered breakfast food. Then Mystery Cop and his friend (a cop in the Bronx, need I say more) joined us. Luckily it wasn't too awkward since he and Same Name Friend hit it off immediately. Then eventually AD, Charlie Kelly and Bawseton wandered in, all three looking like death. Our randomly pieced together table and another of trannys who had just gotten off work (one was in a sparkly hoodie) were the only tables in the restaurant. Despite this it seemed like we were there forever. The groups slowly trickled out and headed back to our respective places. Because it was so late/early, I hesitantly accepted Mason's invite for the two of us to stay at his place. Same Name Friend had his roommate's room all to herself, but she later told me that she couldn't sleep at all because she was too afraid he would come home to find a random black girl in his bed. My initial qualms about staying over proved to be in vain, as Mason respectfully did not try to make a move. So after one of my longest nights ever in New York, we finally fell asleep, well after it was light out.
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Mini Trip to Cuse
At this point it had been about a month since I had been back home to Cuse. I decided a break from the City would be nice, especially considering the Ibanker fiasco a few weeks earlier. But more importantly I needed help from my Mom with making my Halloween costume. I was going to be the white swan from the movie Black Swan and I was eager to get started on my very elaborate plans for it.
I had scheduled an overnight bus home (it's as bad as it sounds) in order to be present at CB's birthday celebration in Williamsburg. I decided that for the occassion I would wear my one hipster-esque dress that I had purchased at a trendy consignment store. The first stop was Mable's Smokehouse, which turned out to be a delish bbq place. Now I am picky about barbecue since one of the most delicious places on earth is in Syracuse. But this was almost as good. As I chowed down on my pulled pork and mac n cheese, I chatted with the guests. I knew a few of CB's friends and liked them. There were also a few present that I had never met, including a hilarious couple. The girl was animatedly telling a story while waving her chicken bone around while her boyfriend chimed in with details she had forgotten. They were one of those really likeable couples, which I have noticed you rarely come across. After dinner we walked up to Berry Park to go on the rooftop beer garden, with a view of the Manhattan skyline. Except as soon as we walked inside, it began to pour. I was immediately pissed, as I didn't have an umbrella and was wearing new (non-waterproof) shoes to go with my hipster dress (which was a hit). We headed up to the roof anyway to try and squeeze under an umbrella but our effort was in vain. We made our way back downstairs and I decided that since the rain was only getting harder, I should probably call a cab to go back to my apartment. Except all the cab lines were busy. I had to end up calling a private car service and felt like kind of a ballllla when I ran out of the bar into my very own Lincoln Continental. I rushed back to my apartment, grabbed my stuff and headed to the bus station, where it was much less horrifying than it had been during the hurricane evacuation. I plopped on the bus, where I sat in the outside seat and pretended to be asleep. My plan worked, as no one sat next to me and then I proceeded to really fall asleep until the bus rolled into Cuse at 5AM.
Re-enter key player in Cuse weekend--Coffee. He was very enthusiastic to hear that I was coming home. We had had a good time the couple times he had been in NYC over the past couple months so I agreed to grab a meal with him. Now Coffee is relatively cool--he's easy to talk to and likes to go out. However, he can be a bit abrasive and is super short. Probably shorter than me, though I've blocked that from my mind. So I knew I wasn't interested. I should've known better than to be so charitable. Dinner at my favorite Polish restaurant where I know the owners, went fine, except for the fact that he actually accepted when I offered him a $20 to pay for my part of the meal. Annoying but even after that, our time out downtown went smoothly. Luckily he was paying for my drinks and we had some decent convos. I was a little discouraged though since no one was really around to meet up with me. Eventually I did run into Judgers, who was out with her group of girls. I am a bit on the fence about them, but they were good this time. One is married so decided she had no qualms about casually wearing a set of fake vampire teeth around the bar (note that this is the same girl who in high school would fake fall down the escalator at the mall). This was cracking me up, though I don't think Coffee saw the humor. I wondered what the girls were thinking and stressed to Judgers that nothing was going on with us. At least it wasn't, until he lured me up to his apartment (down the street from the bars) with the promise of food. I swear, I will jump into the flaming pits of hell if someone tells me there is cheeseburger at the bottom. This of course led to a makeout session, as my reasoning wasn't exactly clear. He then pulled the too many drinks to drive me home card, and fed up, I gave up, and passed out in his bed, where lucky for me (and him) he didn't try anything. Though basically nothing happened with us, I still was not sure how I felt about the whole thing in the morning when I trucked back into my parent's house at 9AM like a tramp. My mother held off on the questions all day, so I thought I was in the clear. When she finally asked, I made up a discombobulated story about staying at Judger's friend's apartment. Oh sure.
As if this wasn't enough to deter me I actually agreed to him meeting me out a couple of nights later. I had found out at the restaurant that Polish Princess was also in town. She was back from LA for good. Her boyfriend had turned out to be an absolute crazy person and her experience of being trapped with him there sounded sickeningly similar to mine in Switzerland. She had made her escape though and not surprisingly was handling it much better than I had. We were meeting up for martinis at World where she spilled all the gory details. Not long into it, Coffee showed up. He was talking loudly and being awkward. I immediately regretted inviting him and I could tell Polish Princess was annoyed, though she never admitted it. The three of us sat and I tried to think off topics we could all discuss, which pretty much ended with New York City. We were pretty much the only people in the bar besides a group of drunk guys, one of which had spoken to us earlier. Now they were really drunk and he was back, with his trashy friend with him. They started talking to PP and I and demanded we all do a shot. None of us wanted a shot, and when Coffee made a snide comment to them I was momentarily terrified one of them would punch him. Luckily they were drunk enough to immediately forget it and left after PP finally agreed to take a shot with them. After that we decided to head to my fav spot, Al's, where we closed out the bar. Coffee had started to get a little handsy at this point but I was luckily able to dodge his off-handed comment about going back with him since I had to drive PP home.
Since this trip I have received roughly 4-5 texts a week from him. I respond, because I think he is alright and I do feel badly, but I am of course not really interested. This may make me sort of a bitch, but it is nice to be on the other side of it, at least for a minute.
I had scheduled an overnight bus home (it's as bad as it sounds) in order to be present at CB's birthday celebration in Williamsburg. I decided that for the occassion I would wear my one hipster-esque dress that I had purchased at a trendy consignment store. The first stop was Mable's Smokehouse, which turned out to be a delish bbq place. Now I am picky about barbecue since one of the most delicious places on earth is in Syracuse. But this was almost as good. As I chowed down on my pulled pork and mac n cheese, I chatted with the guests. I knew a few of CB's friends and liked them. There were also a few present that I had never met, including a hilarious couple. The girl was animatedly telling a story while waving her chicken bone around while her boyfriend chimed in with details she had forgotten. They were one of those really likeable couples, which I have noticed you rarely come across. After dinner we walked up to Berry Park to go on the rooftop beer garden, with a view of the Manhattan skyline. Except as soon as we walked inside, it began to pour. I was immediately pissed, as I didn't have an umbrella and was wearing new (non-waterproof) shoes to go with my hipster dress (which was a hit). We headed up to the roof anyway to try and squeeze under an umbrella but our effort was in vain. We made our way back downstairs and I decided that since the rain was only getting harder, I should probably call a cab to go back to my apartment. Except all the cab lines were busy. I had to end up calling a private car service and felt like kind of a ballllla when I ran out of the bar into my very own Lincoln Continental. I rushed back to my apartment, grabbed my stuff and headed to the bus station, where it was much less horrifying than it had been during the hurricane evacuation. I plopped on the bus, where I sat in the outside seat and pretended to be asleep. My plan worked, as no one sat next to me and then I proceeded to really fall asleep until the bus rolled into Cuse at 5AM.
Re-enter key player in Cuse weekend--Coffee. He was very enthusiastic to hear that I was coming home. We had had a good time the couple times he had been in NYC over the past couple months so I agreed to grab a meal with him. Now Coffee is relatively cool--he's easy to talk to and likes to go out. However, he can be a bit abrasive and is super short. Probably shorter than me, though I've blocked that from my mind. So I knew I wasn't interested. I should've known better than to be so charitable. Dinner at my favorite Polish restaurant where I know the owners, went fine, except for the fact that he actually accepted when I offered him a $20 to pay for my part of the meal. Annoying but even after that, our time out downtown went smoothly. Luckily he was paying for my drinks and we had some decent convos. I was a little discouraged though since no one was really around to meet up with me. Eventually I did run into Judgers, who was out with her group of girls. I am a bit on the fence about them, but they were good this time. One is married so decided she had no qualms about casually wearing a set of fake vampire teeth around the bar (note that this is the same girl who in high school would fake fall down the escalator at the mall). This was cracking me up, though I don't think Coffee saw the humor. I wondered what the girls were thinking and stressed to Judgers that nothing was going on with us. At least it wasn't, until he lured me up to his apartment (down the street from the bars) with the promise of food. I swear, I will jump into the flaming pits of hell if someone tells me there is cheeseburger at the bottom. This of course led to a makeout session, as my reasoning wasn't exactly clear. He then pulled the too many drinks to drive me home card, and fed up, I gave up, and passed out in his bed, where lucky for me (and him) he didn't try anything. Though basically nothing happened with us, I still was not sure how I felt about the whole thing in the morning when I trucked back into my parent's house at 9AM like a tramp. My mother held off on the questions all day, so I thought I was in the clear. When she finally asked, I made up a discombobulated story about staying at Judger's friend's apartment. Oh sure.
As if this wasn't enough to deter me I actually agreed to him meeting me out a couple of nights later. I had found out at the restaurant that Polish Princess was also in town. She was back from LA for good. Her boyfriend had turned out to be an absolute crazy person and her experience of being trapped with him there sounded sickeningly similar to mine in Switzerland. She had made her escape though and not surprisingly was handling it much better than I had. We were meeting up for martinis at World where she spilled all the gory details. Not long into it, Coffee showed up. He was talking loudly and being awkward. I immediately regretted inviting him and I could tell Polish Princess was annoyed, though she never admitted it. The three of us sat and I tried to think off topics we could all discuss, which pretty much ended with New York City. We were pretty much the only people in the bar besides a group of drunk guys, one of which had spoken to us earlier. Now they were really drunk and he was back, with his trashy friend with him. They started talking to PP and I and demanded we all do a shot. None of us wanted a shot, and when Coffee made a snide comment to them I was momentarily terrified one of them would punch him. Luckily they were drunk enough to immediately forget it and left after PP finally agreed to take a shot with them. After that we decided to head to my fav spot, Al's, where we closed out the bar. Coffee had started to get a little handsy at this point but I was luckily able to dodge his off-handed comment about going back with him since I had to drive PP home.
Since this trip I have received roughly 4-5 texts a week from him. I respond, because I think he is alright and I do feel badly, but I am of course not really interested. This may make me sort of a bitch, but it is nice to be on the other side of it, at least for a minute.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Back in Action
After my recovery weekend with family, I needed to get back into the swing of things. I was still feeling badly but luckily more guests were in town--JW and BK. They were back to see a concert and had brought two other friends with them. But their Friday night was free. And good thing because there was another Rebel Bingo taking place that night and you better believe we were going. I trucked to Hell's Kitchen to meet them all at their hotel. We caught up while the girls took roughly 4 and a half hours to get ready. I had of course selected a ridic outfit based on the occasion and closely resembled Donna Martin from 90210. When they decided their outfits were outrageous enough we headed out to hail a cab. There were 5 of us and most cabs in NYC only allow 4 people but we decided to try and elude them. The first was unsuccessful--as soon as we all piled in the driver turned to us, wagged a finger and snarled "There is a problem". We filed out and luckily had better luck with the next one, really only because he was an Indian and so is AV. They became bff's on the ride over while the rest of us squawked and laughed in the backseat about god knows what. When we walked into Irving Place I looked around in horror--it looked like we were at an NYU frat party. No one there could have possibly been over the age of 20, with the exception of us of course. Not knowing what else to do, since we had already bought our tickets, we headed inside and I went straight to the bar. As soon as I purchased my beer a bouncer came running over to me demanding to see some ID. Apparently I was supposed to get a bracelet but how the f was I supposed to know this? Annoyed, I got it out and I copped a tude, saying that out of all the people present he was going to ask me for ID. After that minor fiasco we all headed upstairs to the Bingo room. It was packed with youngings and not in a good way. We played a couple rounds and it was the usual--scantily clad ladies yelling lewd comments, the announcer screaming "who wants to win a fucking panda suit" in a British accent into the microphone, but weren't having quite as much fun as we had the last time. But, then out of nowhere, things picked up. We had been discussing the foreign man JW had befriended the last time we went and as the crowds parted, there he was. He even had his little sidekick from the last time with him. A strange coincidence indeed. As he and JW had a glorious reunion, the host of bingo suddenly appeared (we were in between rounds) and told AV, LP and I that he would give us $20 to write all over the creepy old guy lurking by the bar in marker. We agreed but I held back, mostly out of disgust, while the girls went to town. After we decided to take our winnings and leave. LP really wanted to go to a hookah bar so we headed to one in the East Village We sat and smoked our giant hookah and then deciced to devour a hummus plate. I was starting to feel a bit sad about Ibanker and decided we needed a change of scenery. Time to walk to Beauty Bar. I walked quickly, on a mission, but AV was much drunker than I had realized. I turned around at one point and she was sprawled out in the street, with the girls attempting to help her up. We eventually made it to the bar but to my chagrin the bouncer denied her. Annoyed, I copped an attitude again, and yelled "What, is she the drunkest person to try to get into a bar in the history of New York City??". This did not persuade him and we decided to cut our losses and call it a night. The girls hailed a cab back to the hotel, and I headed into the subway where I drunkenly rode the subway back to the Shwick. Except I had forgotten about the fact that I was covered in marker and halfway through noticed the guy next to me starting at the giant "Slut" written down my arm.
The next morning, after sleeping off my hangover and successfully scrubbing the marker off of my body, I headed back to the hotel to visit with the girls before their concert. We laid around the room for a couple hours as none of us were feeling that great. When I left we made plans to meet up later that night after their concert and my parties. I had had two interesting invites to two different parties that night. The first was courtesy of a guy I had gone to college with. We had had a class together junior year and had been buddies. We had not spoken since but had remained friends on facebook. He was now living in NYC and had sent me a message a couple weeks prior. It was his bday party and I was invited, along with GF. We decided to meet outside the subway in Midtown West and walk over to Mason's apartment together. GF was late for once so I went to Duane Reade and picked up some beer--Miller Lite, which was a GMU staple. When we walked into the apartment, I felt like I had walked into a GMU party--it was very diverse and there was a giant beer pong table set up. Mason greeted us and poured us some sangria. Then we were on our own. GF and I didn't know, well anyone, at the party, and Mason was off entertaining. We stood around and chatted until the "band" came on. They were two performers that had Mason had come across on the subway and hilariously decided to invite play at his party. One played guitar and rapped, while the other jammed out on a flute (that's correct). They were entertaining to say the least, even though they were playing directly in front of the beer fridge. GF and I stood around, antsy, waiting for them to finish. When it became clear that this was not going to be happening anytime soon GF waited for a pause, excused himself, and walked right in between them to grab a beer. I was quietly cracking up until he came back over and informed me that a good deal of our beer was missing. Then it got real. When the band finally quit GF and I headed to the couch to strategize our next move. Mason came to join us for a bit and we chatted. We decided that we should hang out another time, when things weren't so hectic. He got up to greet a guest and a mean-looking blonde girl took his place. GF and I noticed her beer at the same time--Miller Lite. We then loudly began to make comments about how you usually wait til the end of the party to steal someone's beer, while she pretended to ignore us. I had been texting the girls about their location but they were already pretty wasted from the concert and weren't giving us coherant information. We then decided to go to party #2, which I had ruled out at the beginning of the night. It was being hosted by the law school guy I had hooked up with the previous fall. A total bro. I hadn't spoken to him since I moved to New York but he was living here now and had sent me the facebook invite. It was on the Upper East Side, and an open bar, which immediately sold GF. We peaced out of the party and hopped in a cab for our second party, with me in slight shock that we were actually going. When we arrived the bar was filled with bros and we also discovered that this "open bar" involved a $40 wrist band. We ruled that out and bought a drink anyway while I looked around nervously. I finally spotted him and headed over. To my relief he gave me a huge hug. He immediately led GF and I to the bar where we ordered us a round of Patron. We chatted with him for a bit but decided afterwards to head out, since neither of us were interested in a party situation where we knew no one besides the host. We went to Meatpacking, which was another unsuccessful trip. I hadn't heard back from the girls so once again time to cut our losses and call it a night. But I was pleased at the possibility of new prospects on the horizon.....
The next day I decided to be productive and headed down to the financial district where the museum I work for was hosting a special interactive exhibit. The last stop in the exhibit was a trip up to the top floor of one of the remaining World Trade Center towers. The whole floor was empty and there were floor to ceiling windows with views of the Manhattan and New Jersey skylines. I took the time to space out--I pulled up a chair and gazed down at the new 9/11 Memorial, lost in thought, for roughly a half hour.
When I came out of my reverie, I had received a text from Prom, in response to the one I had sent to him earlier. He lives near that area and I wanted some company. I met him outside his apartment and since I was starving I demaded we go to Le Pain Quotidien, where I ordered the heartiest quiche. After I finished eating (and Prom finished making fun of me for ordering a quiche) we went to the bar next door to his apartment--Reade St Pub. It was about as townie as any New York City bar could be and I was pretty enthralled. The bartender was a gruff woman named Marcia and one of the waitresses was this loud, insane French woman and I could literally see the crazy in her eyes. When I informed Prom that I was terrified of her he responded cryptically that I had every reason to be. After a couple beers I proceeded to spill it to Prom about what had happened with Ibanker. Prom listened, then explained his similar situation with a girl he had been seeing. It was so strange, but everything he was saying sounded exactly like what Ibanker would say about us. I suddenly realized what exactly we were, which was nothing. I had also been debating contacting him, since it felt weird to talk regularly for over a year then suddenly not communicate at all. And literally as we were having this conversation Prom received a text from the girl informing him that he was an asshole, among other things. She was clearly drunk and Prom instructed me to never be that girl. Witnessing that situation was enough to make me realize that I truly did need to close the book on Ibanker. To add to the insanity of Reade St Pub, an older man had walked in and sat down next to me. He seemed to be a regular and he and Marcia began chatting, mostly about the Yankees game being played on TV. He then turned his attention to Prom and me and began telling us about his days on Wall St in the 80's and how it was just like Bonfire of the Vanities. This is the point where he unveiled his desserts he had brought in for Marcia. He apparently sometimes brought her treats from the expensive bakery across the street. He had over-ordered this time and Marcia couldn't eat them all. Lucky for me, I was offered them instead. I sat in between Prom and this man, shoveling peanut butter pie and a giant frosted brownie into my mouth. I was so involved that I even managed to ignore the pervy man's comment about making sure I ate all the frosting. I was unable to finish them and Marcia suggested I take the rest home to which I readily agreed. After another round of beers, courtesy of the owner, I decided that I had had another successful weekeend in New York and headed home.
The next morning, after sleeping off my hangover and successfully scrubbing the marker off of my body, I headed back to the hotel to visit with the girls before their concert. We laid around the room for a couple hours as none of us were feeling that great. When I left we made plans to meet up later that night after their concert and my parties. I had had two interesting invites to two different parties that night. The first was courtesy of a guy I had gone to college with. We had had a class together junior year and had been buddies. We had not spoken since but had remained friends on facebook. He was now living in NYC and had sent me a message a couple weeks prior. It was his bday party and I was invited, along with GF. We decided to meet outside the subway in Midtown West and walk over to Mason's apartment together. GF was late for once so I went to Duane Reade and picked up some beer--Miller Lite, which was a GMU staple. When we walked into the apartment, I felt like I had walked into a GMU party--it was very diverse and there was a giant beer pong table set up. Mason greeted us and poured us some sangria. Then we were on our own. GF and I didn't know, well anyone, at the party, and Mason was off entertaining. We stood around and chatted until the "band" came on. They were two performers that had Mason had come across on the subway and hilariously decided to invite play at his party. One played guitar and rapped, while the other jammed out on a flute (that's correct). They were entertaining to say the least, even though they were playing directly in front of the beer fridge. GF and I stood around, antsy, waiting for them to finish. When it became clear that this was not going to be happening anytime soon GF waited for a pause, excused himself, and walked right in between them to grab a beer. I was quietly cracking up until he came back over and informed me that a good deal of our beer was missing. Then it got real. When the band finally quit GF and I headed to the couch to strategize our next move. Mason came to join us for a bit and we chatted. We decided that we should hang out another time, when things weren't so hectic. He got up to greet a guest and a mean-looking blonde girl took his place. GF and I noticed her beer at the same time--Miller Lite. We then loudly began to make comments about how you usually wait til the end of the party to steal someone's beer, while she pretended to ignore us. I had been texting the girls about their location but they were already pretty wasted from the concert and weren't giving us coherant information. We then decided to go to party #2, which I had ruled out at the beginning of the night. It was being hosted by the law school guy I had hooked up with the previous fall. A total bro. I hadn't spoken to him since I moved to New York but he was living here now and had sent me the facebook invite. It was on the Upper East Side, and an open bar, which immediately sold GF. We peaced out of the party and hopped in a cab for our second party, with me in slight shock that we were actually going. When we arrived the bar was filled with bros and we also discovered that this "open bar" involved a $40 wrist band. We ruled that out and bought a drink anyway while I looked around nervously. I finally spotted him and headed over. To my relief he gave me a huge hug. He immediately led GF and I to the bar where we ordered us a round of Patron. We chatted with him for a bit but decided afterwards to head out, since neither of us were interested in a party situation where we knew no one besides the host. We went to Meatpacking, which was another unsuccessful trip. I hadn't heard back from the girls so once again time to cut our losses and call it a night. But I was pleased at the possibility of new prospects on the horizon.....
The next day I decided to be productive and headed down to the financial district where the museum I work for was hosting a special interactive exhibit. The last stop in the exhibit was a trip up to the top floor of one of the remaining World Trade Center towers. The whole floor was empty and there were floor to ceiling windows with views of the Manhattan and New Jersey skylines. I took the time to space out--I pulled up a chair and gazed down at the new 9/11 Memorial, lost in thought, for roughly a half hour.
When I came out of my reverie, I had received a text from Prom, in response to the one I had sent to him earlier. He lives near that area and I wanted some company. I met him outside his apartment and since I was starving I demaded we go to Le Pain Quotidien, where I ordered the heartiest quiche. After I finished eating (and Prom finished making fun of me for ordering a quiche) we went to the bar next door to his apartment--Reade St Pub. It was about as townie as any New York City bar could be and I was pretty enthralled. The bartender was a gruff woman named Marcia and one of the waitresses was this loud, insane French woman and I could literally see the crazy in her eyes. When I informed Prom that I was terrified of her he responded cryptically that I had every reason to be. After a couple beers I proceeded to spill it to Prom about what had happened with Ibanker. Prom listened, then explained his similar situation with a girl he had been seeing. It was so strange, but everything he was saying sounded exactly like what Ibanker would say about us. I suddenly realized what exactly we were, which was nothing. I had also been debating contacting him, since it felt weird to talk regularly for over a year then suddenly not communicate at all. And literally as we were having this conversation Prom received a text from the girl informing him that he was an asshole, among other things. She was clearly drunk and Prom instructed me to never be that girl. Witnessing that situation was enough to make me realize that I truly did need to close the book on Ibanker. To add to the insanity of Reade St Pub, an older man had walked in and sat down next to me. He seemed to be a regular and he and Marcia began chatting, mostly about the Yankees game being played on TV. He then turned his attention to Prom and me and began telling us about his days on Wall St in the 80's and how it was just like Bonfire of the Vanities. This is the point where he unveiled his desserts he had brought in for Marcia. He apparently sometimes brought her treats from the expensive bakery across the street. He had over-ordered this time and Marcia couldn't eat them all. Lucky for me, I was offered them instead. I sat in between Prom and this man, shoveling peanut butter pie and a giant frosted brownie into my mouth. I was so involved that I even managed to ignore the pervy man's comment about making sure I ate all the frosting. I was unable to finish them and Marcia suggested I take the rest home to which I readily agreed. After another round of beers, courtesy of the owner, I decided that I had had another successful weekeend in New York and headed home.
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