'Ound Town

Another weekend in NYC and I had things all planned out. That's the thing about New York though--things rarely go to plan. I was not too excited for Friday night, as Jersey was expecting me to meet his little sister who would be in town. Why the hell this was taking place I was not sure. We had only been seeing each other for a few weeks and I wasn't even really sure if he was for me. But I liked being driven around in his Range Rover and going out to dinner so I reluctantly agreed. I was running very late, as I trucked from the Shwick into Hell's Kitchen because I had changed my outfit about 18 times before finally deciding. I was basically running through Times Square to get there, since the train I was on had stopped. It was humid, I was in platforms and I was hot as shit, so I took my jacket off. While waiting on a corner to cross the street, a large group of very ghetto gentlemen began to cat call me. I stood nervously, ignoring them, but their calls increased in strength and number. When I heard "I'm going to fuck the shit out of you", I decided enough was enough and booked it across the street, almost being hit by a car. I showed up to meet them pissed off, sweaty and a half hour late. A really good first impression.
Not like it mattered, since the sister was 19 and pretty caught up in all the partying she was going to be doing that night. She was nice enough but had brought up a huge bag of coke with her from GW (how appropriate). I don't have a sister, but if I did, I certainly wouldn't allow that behavior. After dinner she headed out for her big night and I reluctantly dragged Jersey to Meatpacking, to meet Russian Rocher. Turns out she was at Revel, the bar where JM and I had met the old dudes. (See Oh, Dating). Jersey stood around sulking, while I chatted with Russian Rocher, who wasn't feeling that well. Mid-convo, she stopped and shakily said she needed to go to the bathroom. She disappeared and when she returned decided she had food poisoning. I knew that was the end of our night and our plans tomorrow to do a Bushwick Day so we put her in a cab and then headed back to Hell's Kitchen.
The next day seemed to be promising. The weather was nice and GF was down to day drink, to make up for my broken plans with Russian Rocher. I called up Prom and JM and figured we could have a Poundtown reunion. JM was in Long Island for the day but said she would meet us later so I headed to Tribeca to meet up with Prom. Our plan was to sit out on Stone Street in the sun. Except when we arrived the sun had disappeared and was replaced with a brisk wind. We tried to sit anyway but eventually had to head inside of Beckett's, Prom's home away from home. GF finally met us and we sat around, listening to Prom and his boss who had shown up, recount their night before at a Puerto Rican wedding and then eventually a strip club in the Bronx ("biggest asses I've ever seen"--direct quote). Eventually growing bored, we decided we should change up the neighborhood. We took the train up to the West Village and headed to one of GF's fav spots, a lesbian bar called the Cubby Hole. The three of us knew full well we stood out. Prom surveyed and his dead-on observation: "Well, I can tell you what their isn't a shortage of in this establishment--comfortable footwear". Boom. We took some shots and I perched on a barstool, where eventually a girl decided to share it with me. The three of us were cranky that our fourth wasn't present so we sent JM the following sweet text: "Team Poundtown is reunited except now we are Team Oundtown. You are the P because you are a PUSSY for not being here. Love, Us.".
At this point it was still very early in the night and since we had feasted on bar food at Beckett's none of us wanted to go to dinner. We stayed at the Cubby Hole for as long as we could stand it until Prom eventually decided to break off from us as well. There was a UFC fight he wanted to watch Uptown and since GF and I were not interested we walked over to our old stand-by, Employees Only. Even though it was only around 9:30, there was a line and the bouncer informed us there was a "bit of a wait". We cursed our luck and were debating where else to go when two people walked out and the bouncer pointed to the two of us to go in, before everyone waiting in line. A gift from the heavens! We stood around and drank for awhile but we weren't having as much fun as we had that one time. We debated what we should do with the rest of our night, and since we had had a few drinks and were feeling ambitious decided we may as well try Le Baron. This was a bad idea from the getgo. We had been wanting to go for awhile, but it has one of the toughest door policies (aka a "no people" policy) in New York, complete with a bouncer who sometimes wears a bunny suit. Russian Rocher had recently gone, but her visit was mid-week through a work function. GF and I were heading there at 11pm on a Saturday night. And as soon as we exited the cab, in the desolate part of Nolita where the unmarked club was located, it began to pour. We only had one umbrella so we squeezed under it and showed up looking like soaked rats. No one was in line, since it was far too early for anyone to be there, and quite frankly if you have to wait in line at this place, you aren';t getting in anyway. The bouncer (sans bunny costume) took one look at us and shook his head--"guys I wouldn't even waste your time". We already knew this, but the fact that it was now pouring out just added to the humiliation. We scuttled down the sidewalk towards another club we knew of in the vicinity and since we were both completely soaked at this point, we were treated similarly by this bouncer. We needed to escape this nightmare immediately but trying to find a cab in New York when it's raining is like trying to find a seat on a Greyhound bus to Atlantic City--they are all taken. We were forced to the 25 plus blocks back to GF's apartment in the Lower East Side. We were soaked yet both trying to squeeze under my tiny umbrella, and shouting obscenities about the bouncers, which I will not repeat. It was pathetic. We made it back to GF's by 11:30, with no desire at all to go out anywhere else. I passed out on his couch and was forced to repeat the scenario again in the morning--the trains were all effed up so I walked 20 blocks in the rain to another line. And with that, I will erase that night from my memory.