Though I needed a partying break after our AC trip I only got a few days before the weekend started all over again. And early, thanks to GA and a party she was hosting. She had invited Atl and I to a happy hour she was hosting at the XVI rooftop. I headed there after work with some coworkers. GA whisked us to over her table with bottle service and before I knew it I was drinking champagne and grey goose in broad daylight. Knowing someone who works in the nightlife business definitley has it perks. But it also exposes you to the seedy characters that are in their circles. Atl got the brunt of this, when the sleazy bar owner took a liking to her. He had a gut and whenever I looked over he had his hand on her leg or his arm around her and she looked visibily uncomfortable. Luckily he soon disappeared into the night.
I was about ready to go home at this point since it was a Thursday but when I emerged from my final bathroom trip, I found Atl surrounded by a large group of finance douches. She pulled me over and introduced me to one who had his tie tied around his head. Typical. Of course drinks were offered to us and we stayed well after our original party had left. This group of boys was mostly Canadian, including Tie Guy, who was from Montreal. I of course felt the need to keep asking him about poutine and then cracking up. They soon decided to head out to a karaoke bar, but in a well-played move, Tie Guy and his friend isolated Atl and I and ended up taking us with them to the Jane Hotel in the West Village. This is a newly popular, classy yet rowdy hotel bar. Classic finance.
Tie Guy and Atl had buddied up, but he was too drunk and goofy to be much trouble. His friend, however, was more sober so therefore more of a predator. He was putting the moves on, and since I had just taken a shot, I was soon making out with him on a couch in the bar. He invited me back with him, but my excuse for him was that I "hadn't shaved my bikini line". I don't know what possessed me to say that, and he looked surprised that I had. I decided that telling him I was going to get waxed soon would help this, even though it was completely untrue, I was just lazy as shit and hadn't felt like shaving for awhile. Classy as always. Soon after we all stumbled out of the bar, my guy still insisting and me resisting, and Tie Guy too wasted to put up a fight. So the boys went home without us that night, which was a very good thing. Atl and I hailed a cab and then realized halfway into the ride that she had lost her phone. So we turned around and headed back to the Jane Hotel, where we miraculously found her phone on the floor by our couch. The morning found us both wondering how the night had escalated so quickly.
Speaking of drunken messes, that next Saturday night followed a similar pattern. I had taken Friday night off, so my Saturday night ended up being the equivalent of two nights out. It started early--Khia had all you can eat/drink karaoke party scheduled to start 8, to celebrate his having taken the CFA exam that day. It was of course in Koreatown and he had reserved a private room for the 30+ people who were going to be attending. Once these people started to file in, the trays of sake, coronas and questionable looking sushi and tempura were brought in as well. The rotation of classic karaoke hits were played and this is how the next 2 and a half hours went--I sat next to Yahtzee and Deux and shoved California rolls into my mouth and drank sake poured into corona, since I refuse to do sake bombs. After a bit I was soon standing on the booth next to Yahtzee and Deux, all of us singing along. There was a classic picture taken of me, standing on the booth, in my cut-out dress, with my arms straight up in the air, looking like I was having the time of my life, which for privacy reasons will not be shown.When in reality I was regretting my decision to wear a midriff-baring dress to an all you can eat/drink event. Fatass. Once again, the night kept escalating--Yahtzee and I sang a duet to "Another Night" and by the end of the two hours, people were falling down in the booths and the floor was completely covered in beer and broken glass. Our private room looked like a frat house at 4AM.
Luckily our alloted time was up and most of us headed back to an after-party at some guy's apartment. Atl then joined me. She immediately waltzed into the bathroom, where she helped herself to the guy's deodorant. Once she was feeling fresh, we decided to head out, as this scene was pretty lame. We headed back around our hood, where we deemed B Bar not up to standards. We stumbled over to Bowery Hotel, where on the way we received multiple beeps. Probably because I was in a cut-out dress and she was wearing a see-through shirt. Not attire for the Bowery Hotel, but we were let in nonetheless. We paid $20 for our drinks and since there was nowhere to sit, we parked it on the piano bench in the corner of the room and surveyed. I am sure that people thought we were prostitutes. After blabbing to a Danish bouncer about Copenhagen, we left and drunkenly wandered the East Village for what seemed like forever. We could not make a decision on where to go, but luckily I received a text from Deux instructing us to head to the LES, because he was at a bar with Slonks. We trucked it all the way there and Deux was nowhere to be found. Luckily Slonks was, and he seemed very excited to see us. We caught up and had some dranks (just what we needed) and agreed we should go to another bar. Except Atl and wandered out before we decided which bar. I did not have Slonks number so we had lost him for the night. Atl called her hookup buddy, who happened to be her old boss's godson, to come meet us at La Caverna. The bouncer loved my dress and instead of stamping my hand, stamped my midriff. The three of us then ran around drinking and dancing. Atl convinced me to stand up on a table to dance, because I was wearing a cutout dress for god's sake and it needed to be seen. I was promptly told to get down by a bouncer who not impressed by my dress. And in a classic drunk people move, we all ended the night at the 24 hour diner near our apartment around 4am.
Afterward: I had felt my shoes bothering earlier in the night, but the amount that we walked and the fact that my senses were numbed led to the worst blisters I have ever received on both my big toes. That whole next week, I hobbled around in pain and was having to constantly change the bandages on my infected wounds. That is my punishment for my 8 hour bender.
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