Just an average Friday night bender in New York City. After taking a much-needed break the weekend before in the Cuse, I was feeling refreshed and ready to hit the town once again. Little did I know that this would be literally...
I started early. After work I met JM in South St. Seaport to head to happy hour at Beekman Beach Club. This is similar to what it sounds like--a bar on the "beach", meaning an area with fake sand right next to the river. It does have a phenomenal view of the Brooklyn Bridge, which were able to vaguely make out through the ridiculous thunderstorm which started right after we sat down. We huddled under the white tent over the bar and drank some beers while catching up.
However after this JM was ready to end her night. I was not. I headed back to Avenue C to see what Atl was up to. On the way I received a text from a friend from work saying she was going to a bday party at a bar in Midtown that night. Looks like we had our plan. I got ready quickly then Atl headed up there in a cab. When we emerged we were met with a line...in the rain. Ehhh. We waited, thinking that the group of 22 year olds with Long Island accents both in front of us and in back of us was not a good sign. We were correct in this assumption. The bar was B&T Brofest and absolutely packed. There was no one there worth talking to besides my friend from work and she was one of the only ones that hadn't gotten in with a fake ID. This was a fail. Atl and I wanted to leave stat and not really knowing what else to do, I texted the promoter I know from Syracuse. He is the one who throws parties in Meatpacking at tacky clubs, often times with a pack of bitchy girls. However the alcohol is free and in abundance so we agreed to meat him at Kiss N Fly. It was taking him longer than usual to get his table set up so while we were waiting we headed around the block to Gaslight, where the bouncer was being strict. This is basically a pub, but they still were not letting guys in easily, which shows the ridiculousness of Meatpacking. A guy asked if he could go in with us, and we agreed as long as he bought us each a drink. We led him straight to the bar, where he bought us each a shot. We slammed it down and promptly left, returning to our table of free booze at the club. Luckily the bitchy girls were absent that night and Atl and I were pretty much on our own. We drank our fill and danced around until we were bored. We decided that we were both pretty drunk so it was time to call it a night. We said our goodbyes to the promoter and his friends and made our way out, Atl leading the way.
We were in the entryway when it happened. I felt my foot step into a puddle and slide out from under me. Before I knew it I was on my back, on the floor, just like at Webster Hall a couple weeks before. How could this keep happening?! I looked around to see if anyone had noticed. Atl had already exited but the bathroom attendant nearby had definitely seen. "That was funny right?" I said as I lifted myself from the ground. He didn't even crack a smile, just shook his head and turned around. Ehhh. I can only hope that the next time I fall I have someone to laugh with me, instead of not at all. I brushed myself off and joined Atl in the cab outside.
The next day the right side of my ass was extremely sore. This did not stop me from heading to my Saturday night destination--Russian Rocher's friend's bday party. This friend had mentioned setting me up with her guy friend every time I had met her. As it turns out her bday was a joint party, with said friend. So I decided that I might as well go and scope it out. I selected an outfit which best seemed to say "I'm not trying to look hot, but I do" and headed to the subway where the cat calls confirmed that someone thought I indeed did look hot, whether I was trying or not. The party was at a bar in Tribeca, which was a pretty rando location. They had the basement rented out though and an open bar, which I would not be partaking in after the last night. Russian Rocher was already there with her new man friend, who didn't have a whole lot to say, it seemed. She pointed out the bday friend across the room and he surprisingly looked cute. He was wearing an American flag printed baseball hat which I also appreciated. I was definitely willing to give this guy a chance. He was occupied with friends for awhile, but soon I spotted RR's friend leading him my way. Except RR's man friend had taken this opportunity to tell me, in great detail, about some movie featuring Girl Talk, whom I don't like to begin with. This guy needed to STFU before I missed my chance. Finally I somewhat rudely nodded and then turned around to meet the birthday boy. We chatted for a minute--he seemed nice and had good credentials (Notre Dame grad, lives in FiDi, accountant). He was soon whisked away but stopped by occasionally to chat. RR and her man friend were heading out but flip cup was just getting started in the back room so I decided to stay, because we all know I love flip cup. After a few games I came to the realization that I was at a party where I only kind of knew one person, who was occupied with her boyfriend on the dancefloor. Luckily the girls who were next to me at the table started to chat with me. They both seemed nice, though one had fake lips. I liked the other one more, as she was also from Upstate and had recently moved to NYC. I saw Bday Boy approaching but to my chagrin, he whisked Upstate girl onto the dancefloor. I was left with Fake Lips. I was curious where she fit in so I asked her who she knew here. Her response: "my friend is dating the birthday boy". Yes, Upstate Girl and he were together according to her. Apparently no one did their due diligence before inviting me to a party to be "set up". I suddenly felt very awkward and decided that was my cue to head out. From now on, I would find my own dates.
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