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.
Monday, November 14, 2011
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.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Weekend with some Fam
The next night, after successfully not crying during the day at work, I had plans to meet up with cous and hus again but first I was scheduled to make an appearance at my roommate's bday party in Williamsburg. I accompanied her to the Bedford Hotel, trying not to think about the last time I had been there, with Ibanker. Luckily my roommate's bright green sequined dress provided a good distraction. I had a drink and then ran towards the subway to meet them on St. Marks. I had managed to snag a reservation at PDT and I wanted to make sure we didn't miss it, especially since I was (shocker) running late. But if I am late, my cousin is later and I ended up having to wait at the table for about 20 minutes by myself. I would have been very uncomfortable if this was anywhere other than NYC. When they arrived they were delightfully surprised at the phone booth and the decor once inside (remember, this is the place inside the hot dog stand). We ordered about 3 rounds of crazy drinks, and when we couldn't decide on which hot dog to get my cousin's husband went ahead and ordered all 5 off the menu. They filled me in on some family gossip and we cracked up looking at our crazy cousin's scandolous pictures on facebook. And to make it even better they let me stay at their hotel with them so I didn't have to cab it all the way back to the 'Shwick.
The next day I headed back (much safer in daylight hours) and had big plans to get shit done all day. Instead I feel asleep for 3 and a half hours. By the time I awoke and showered it was time for me to start getting ready to go back out. Another bday party, back on St. Marks. It was the boyfriend of one of my coworkers, really the only friend I had made at this museum since the interns. She was cool, hilarious and had gone to University of Richmond so we had VA in common. We'll call her Penelope. Her sister was also cool and went to American (Selma). Another perk of the weekend was that my entire subway line was not running. So I had to truck 15 minutes through my hood to take the M train. This part of the hood seriously resembled a 3rd world Latin American country and I walked very quickly through it. This line also meant that I had to walk quite a ways when I got into the city so by the time I finally arrived I was freezing and a bit grumpy. Luckily the girls seemed happy to see me so I joined their table and had some drinks. I hadn't met any of the other people present so I was again forced to bury my misery to socialize effectively. I did so for a couple hours until cous and hus' broadway show let out. I decided to treat myself to a cab ride (I do not do this often) to Times Square to meet them. I had brainstormed some options of places we could go in that neighborhood and was worried b/c I didn't have many. Luckily Hus knew there was a rooftop bar at the top of the Marriot Marquee with a view of Times Square. It was a bit touristy but definetely not someplace I would've gone on my own, so it was a good change. We sat in an excessively large circle booth, drinking wine and after a few glasses I spilled it about what had happened with Ibanker. They both gave me their two cents about it, which didn't make me feel better, but was a good dose of reality.
Afterwards my cousin wanted to go to the giant Forever 21 which was open til 3am. This got my off the hook for choosing another bar and I also figured some retail therapy could be helpful. We wandered the store in a drunken haze and I headed straight for the tights. To my dismay Hus tricked me--he ended up buying me 3 different pairs of tights and also snatched away a shirt I was eyeing as well. I felt like a huge mooch, especially when they let me stay at their hotel once again. But that's what fam is for, I guess.
The next day I was their tour guide through Chinatown and Soho. My cousin wanted a fake Louie and I was interested to see how this would play out. It was as shady as one would think. A woman approached us on the street and quiety mumbled something about fake bags. When my cousin asked what kind she had, she led us across the street to a man with a cigarette wedged between his lips. He never once removed it. He took a wrinkled brochure out of his pocket and explained them to us. At one point a cop drove by and it went back into his pocket so quickly I wasn't even sure what happened to it. When my cousin had made her two selections, he ordered us to stay there, he would be back in 15 minutes. He then took off down the street on his bike. And 15 minutes later he returned with a discreet sack. He accompanied Cous and Hus into the bank lobby so they could inspect. I stood outside with their adorable pug, while everyone ohhed and ahhed at him as they walked by. When they emerged the man was angry b/c my cousin had refused one of the bags, for the obvious paint stain it had on it. She took the other though and we made our way into Soho/Little Italy for some pizza. I didn't know the San Gennaro fest (giant Italian street fair) was taking place that weekend so we had to push our way through the crowds. When the line at Lombardi's was too long we decided to get some street vendor food. Except to my horror my cousin noticed that there was room on the patio at Pomadoro's--which is directly across the street from Ibanker's fav bar, Spring Lounge. We sat there in full view, while I miserably tried not to peer inside or think about the fact that I looked like shit from not going home the night before. Luckily there were no sightings and though this soured my mood quite a bit, Cous and Hus (and pug) had served as a good distraction for the weekend. Despite my qualms, it helped and I could then start down the road to recovery. Also the deep-fried oreos they bought from a vendor for me as a parting gift didn't hurt.
Thursday, October 13, 2011
Fashion and Freefest
Fashion's Night Out is a big event in New York and one that I was really excited to check out. I recruited who other than GF to be my partner in crime. Our original plan was to walk around and then check out a band that was playing at Rockefeller Center for the night, but we nixed this when we arrived on 59th and Madison to a huge crowd, weaving in and out of different stores. I really had no idea what this night was all about but the stores stay open late, many with free food and cocktails and as if that isn't enough, have special appearances by celebrities to draw people in. I should've figured that this is New York and people would be dressed to the nines but unfortunately I had had a lapse in judgement and had dressed pretty casually. Luckily, it is New York, and you can pretty much get away with wearing whatever you want. We headed into the Calvin Klein store and stood in the midst of the crowd. There was a dj and people taking pictures of a model towards the front. We saw an employee walk by carrying a tray with about 6 champagne glasses on it, which were quickly snatched up. Figuring that was a lost cause, we headed towards 5th Ave, which was where the real action was. Most of the designer stores had huge lines and/or vip lists and we knew that was never happening. We did make it into Tiffany's and I picked out which ring GF which purchase for me. After we walked down to Rockefeller to have a drink and on our way there I thought I spotted Cute Guy crossing the street and my stomach dropped (luckily it wasn't him). Our next destination was a party being thrown by GF's roomate's fiance in Soho. We were going to slum it down there on the subway like we always do but noticed a mysterious looking line. We discovered that VW was sponsoring free rides down to Soho and figured why not take advantage. While we stood in line we were of course forced to give a faux interview, captured on camera, about how excited we were to be riding in a VW. Only half a lie, since I was pretty excited not to have to endure the stench of the subway. Our car pulled up, we jumped in and were immediately stuck in traffic. This gave us plenty of time to chat with our driver who was about our age and a firefighter from Queens. He was cool and put on some house music for us. After about an hour of sitting in traffic we finally made it to the party. People were crowded outside and when we pulled up everyone turned to peer inside the car. GF and I were enjoying this immensely and it became even better when two teenage girls ran up to the car and took our picture. I guess being in a private car with the Fashion's Night Out Logo can't hurt, even for us. Unfortunately this is where our fame ended, as we went in the public entrance rather than the red carpet entrance. Inside was a madhouse, since Heidi Klum was doing an interview in the corner. Luckily there were plenty of free drinks at this place though and after craning to get a look we helped ourselves. While standing there I noticed a good-looking blonde guy in a suit. GF claimed he looked tooly and that he seemed like my type. We forgot about him until a few minutes later when he walked up to us. To both our surprise he went straight up to GF and introduced himself. GF had somehow not picked up on this. They chatted for a minute and then the mysterious stranger disappeared into the night. I decided to then take advantage of the free makeup booths set up. I had a complimentary airbrush done and then headed to another for my blush. GF claimed I looked great but when I got home that night, discovered that in natural lighting I looked shockingly like a geisha. GF's roommate joined us, we had a few more drinks and then decided to a fashion "photo shoot". We chose our wardrobe, selecting the most ridiculous pieces we could find (I believe mine was a zebra print tunic, GF's a fur coat and his roommate had on a cowboy hat) and stepped in front of the photographer taking the pictures. We yelled and posed ridiculously and I would kill someone to get my hands on that photo. By this time the party was starting to wind down so I took the subway back to my hood, since I needed my beauty rest for the weekend.
I was headed back to DC. This particular trip was for Freefest, a giant festival where the tickets were free, if you could get your hands on one. I had, along with AD, Same Name Friend and ED. The crew was being reunited. We made it late to the festival, since I insisted on stuffing my face with some Ben's Chili Bowl before we left. So we had to run over to the stage and only caught the last few songs of Two Door Cinema Club' set. After we realized what we were standing in....disgusting farm mud covered in hay. The festival was being held out in the country in Maryland and this stage must have been placed right on top of a shit-filled pasture. Let's just say that my Keds didn't make back to New York with me. We resigned ourselves to the smelliness and eventually got used to it, since almost every band we wanted to see was going to be at this stage. Except for the next act--Calvin Harris. So after a trip to the portapotties and the beer line we headed to the "dance forest" and squeezed ourselves into the mass of sweaty people. Unfortunately many of these people happened to include fucking annoying college sophomore girls who had had too much to drink. After Same Name Friend almost punched one they moved away and we were able to fully enjoy Calvin Harris. He was awesome and we danced our faces off. I was even more excited for after his set--Cut Copy. And even better news, BK was at the Fest as well and met up with us. We headed back to the smelly stage to all watch Cut Copy together. I danced as much as I could with my feet sinking into farm mud, b/c lord knows I love Cut Copy. Of course I was thinking about the last time I had seen them with the Croatia boys but I was able for the most part to ignore it. Halfway through the set, with the sun beating down on all of us, I decided that my shirt had to go. It was an awesome one, with bright neon letters spelling "hello" that JW had worn to Rebel Bingo, but I was sweating like a fiend and in my alcohol haze decided it was no longer necessary. Off it went, revealing my neon pink bra underneath. I kept this is up long after the set was over, just like at Ultra. I even received a compliment from a girl so it wasn't the worst idea.
We had some time to kill before the next acts, and delicious smells were wafting from the food tents. We headed for the one next to the "dance forest" so we could listen to Porter Robinson while we waited in line. And waited we did. And waited and waited. We had been in line a half hour and were barely moving. People were starting to get antsy and Same Name Friend began to yell curses at a girl towards the front who had budged. Things became even more ruthless as we neared the front and at one point I was afraid there was going to be Lord of the Flies style anarchy. I know we would have gotten our food much quicker if there had been. Finally when we reached the front I learned why the line was taking so long. The employee supposed to be taking orders was a 15 year old idiot, just standing there, with her mouth hanging open. Now I know I sound bitchy, but I've worked in concessions and know how it works. Standing there is not an option. I barked my orders to her while hitting the counter with my fist for emphasis. My inner bitch was coming out--I had been without food for too long. We finally got our nuggets (no sauce, they were out) and ED and I massacred them in about 20 seconds. We sat for a minute, recovering, until it was time to head back to the smelly stage for the last 2 sets of our night--Empire of the Sun and Deadmau5. And another addition to our group--the elusive Charlie Kelly, from Ultra. We hadn't seen him since and it was a welcome surprise. Especially for AD--she had had her crush on him ever since they met and this time she was acting on it. Not two songs into Deadmau5, they were already making out. Now both Empire and Dmau5 were awesome. We were close to the front and got the full view of Empire's ridiculous costumes. I hadn't been impressed with Deadmau5's performances before (note the time I threatened to beat his ass in Germany) but this time he rocked it. AD was occupied and Same Name Friend had also found a makeout companion, in the form of a French younging who claimed her ass was "intimidating". I was slightly annoyed I did not have my own buddy but proceeded to dance my face off anyway. I soon felt a tap on my shoulder.I turned to find my German friend from Sticky Rice standing there. Now there were many key players at Freefest I had unsuccessfully not been able to meet up with, including Blumster and Benny, who was being elusive. I had even invited Lafaille's hot friend at the last minute but he couldn't make it. So out of all these people, I was surprised that it was German who had managed to meet me. We stood for awhile and chatted about the Fest until I knew I couldn't hold my pee any longer, my life story. He walked with me to the portapotty and this is where we parted ways, since he needed to find his friends before the concert ended. I was a little disappointed we couldn't hang out more but also pleased that we had managed to meet up at all.
I made my way back into the crowd, my feet covered in mud, and danced to the last few songs. Halfway through my fav song, a drunk boy in front of me turned to me and began to chat. I was slightly annoyed and when we all turned to leave after the song ended ED grabbed me by the arm and announced to him that "it was too late". We made our way back to the car, sans AD, who had decided to escort Charlie Kelly back to her place. I changed my sleeping location to ED's in Alexandria, but was then very disappointed to learn that Hot Friend was out that night in Arlington. Another failed attempt to meet up (hook up?) with him. Probably for the best, as I was covered in sweat and smelly mud.
The next day ED and I pounded some breakfast then I was heading into the DC to meet up with Benny, despite him being elusive the day before. I had given him some tude about it so I'm sure he was trying to make amends. While waiting for him at Gallery Place, I was conned into buying a newspaper from a homeless man, which is surprising considering my strict "never give money to homeless people" policy. But this one seemed nice and I figured I needed the good karma. Well, another must have witnessed this and walked up to me and demanded two 10's for his 20. I had honestly given the last guy my last dollar so I informed him I didn't have any cash. He stood there glaring at me and repeated his request. I repeated what I had just said louder and slower. He then looked me up and down and spat out "you look rich" before walking away. I nervously adjusted my romper (from Target) and texted Benny to hurry the hell up. When he arrived we had a very similar date to the one we had had roughly a month before, pre-hookup. It was a nice way to spend the afternoon and we had a wholesome time, unlike the last time we had hung out.
And that about wraps my DC trip up. I headed back to NYC the next afternoon as I figured everyone was working and I wanted to get some job applying done in New York. To my chagrin, the moment I stepped on the bus, I received a text from Hot Friend informing me he had the afternoon off. I even debated turning around and catching a later bus, but didn't have the motivation (mainly b/c I looked pretty rough). If I had known that the Ibanker rejection would be taking place roughly 48 hours from then I probably would have. Instead I passed out for the full four hours back to NYC.
I was headed back to DC. This particular trip was for Freefest, a giant festival where the tickets were free, if you could get your hands on one. I had, along with AD, Same Name Friend and ED. The crew was being reunited. We made it late to the festival, since I insisted on stuffing my face with some Ben's Chili Bowl before we left. So we had to run over to the stage and only caught the last few songs of Two Door Cinema Club' set. After we realized what we were standing in....disgusting farm mud covered in hay. The festival was being held out in the country in Maryland and this stage must have been placed right on top of a shit-filled pasture. Let's just say that my Keds didn't make back to New York with me. We resigned ourselves to the smelliness and eventually got used to it, since almost every band we wanted to see was going to be at this stage. Except for the next act--Calvin Harris. So after a trip to the portapotties and the beer line we headed to the "dance forest" and squeezed ourselves into the mass of sweaty people. Unfortunately many of these people happened to include fucking annoying college sophomore girls who had had too much to drink. After Same Name Friend almost punched one they moved away and we were able to fully enjoy Calvin Harris. He was awesome and we danced our faces off. I was even more excited for after his set--Cut Copy. And even better news, BK was at the Fest as well and met up with us. We headed back to the smelly stage to all watch Cut Copy together. I danced as much as I could with my feet sinking into farm mud, b/c lord knows I love Cut Copy. Of course I was thinking about the last time I had seen them with the Croatia boys but I was able for the most part to ignore it. Halfway through the set, with the sun beating down on all of us, I decided that my shirt had to go. It was an awesome one, with bright neon letters spelling "hello" that JW had worn to Rebel Bingo, but I was sweating like a fiend and in my alcohol haze decided it was no longer necessary. Off it went, revealing my neon pink bra underneath. I kept this is up long after the set was over, just like at Ultra. I even received a compliment from a girl so it wasn't the worst idea.
We had some time to kill before the next acts, and delicious smells were wafting from the food tents. We headed for the one next to the "dance forest" so we could listen to Porter Robinson while we waited in line. And waited we did. And waited and waited. We had been in line a half hour and were barely moving. People were starting to get antsy and Same Name Friend began to yell curses at a girl towards the front who had budged. Things became even more ruthless as we neared the front and at one point I was afraid there was going to be Lord of the Flies style anarchy. I know we would have gotten our food much quicker if there had been. Finally when we reached the front I learned why the line was taking so long. The employee supposed to be taking orders was a 15 year old idiot, just standing there, with her mouth hanging open. Now I know I sound bitchy, but I've worked in concessions and know how it works. Standing there is not an option. I barked my orders to her while hitting the counter with my fist for emphasis. My inner bitch was coming out--I had been without food for too long. We finally got our nuggets (no sauce, they were out) and ED and I massacred them in about 20 seconds. We sat for a minute, recovering, until it was time to head back to the smelly stage for the last 2 sets of our night--Empire of the Sun and Deadmau5. And another addition to our group--the elusive Charlie Kelly, from Ultra. We hadn't seen him since and it was a welcome surprise. Especially for AD--she had had her crush on him ever since they met and this time she was acting on it. Not two songs into Deadmau5, they were already making out. Now both Empire and Dmau5 were awesome. We were close to the front and got the full view of Empire's ridiculous costumes. I hadn't been impressed with Deadmau5's performances before (note the time I threatened to beat his ass in Germany) but this time he rocked it. AD was occupied and Same Name Friend had also found a makeout companion, in the form of a French younging who claimed her ass was "intimidating". I was slightly annoyed I did not have my own buddy but proceeded to dance my face off anyway. I soon felt a tap on my shoulder.I turned to find my German friend from Sticky Rice standing there. Now there were many key players at Freefest I had unsuccessfully not been able to meet up with, including Blumster and Benny, who was being elusive. I had even invited Lafaille's hot friend at the last minute but he couldn't make it. So out of all these people, I was surprised that it was German who had managed to meet me. We stood for awhile and chatted about the Fest until I knew I couldn't hold my pee any longer, my life story. He walked with me to the portapotty and this is where we parted ways, since he needed to find his friends before the concert ended. I was a little disappointed we couldn't hang out more but also pleased that we had managed to meet up at all.
I made my way back into the crowd, my feet covered in mud, and danced to the last few songs. Halfway through my fav song, a drunk boy in front of me turned to me and began to chat. I was slightly annoyed and when we all turned to leave after the song ended ED grabbed me by the arm and announced to him that "it was too late". We made our way back to the car, sans AD, who had decided to escort Charlie Kelly back to her place. I changed my sleeping location to ED's in Alexandria, but was then very disappointed to learn that Hot Friend was out that night in Arlington. Another failed attempt to meet up (hook up?) with him. Probably for the best, as I was covered in sweat and smelly mud.
The next day ED and I pounded some breakfast then I was heading into the DC to meet up with Benny, despite him being elusive the day before. I had given him some tude about it so I'm sure he was trying to make amends. While waiting for him at Gallery Place, I was conned into buying a newspaper from a homeless man, which is surprising considering my strict "never give money to homeless people" policy. But this one seemed nice and I figured I needed the good karma. Well, another must have witnessed this and walked up to me and demanded two 10's for his 20. I had honestly given the last guy my last dollar so I informed him I didn't have any cash. He stood there glaring at me and repeated his request. I repeated what I had just said louder and slower. He then looked me up and down and spat out "you look rich" before walking away. I nervously adjusted my romper (from Target) and texted Benny to hurry the hell up. When he arrived we had a very similar date to the one we had had roughly a month before, pre-hookup. It was a nice way to spend the afternoon and we had a wholesome time, unlike the last time we had hung out.
And that about wraps my DC trip up. I headed back to NYC the next afternoon as I figured everyone was working and I wanted to get some job applying done in New York. To my chagrin, the moment I stepped on the bus, I received a text from Hot Friend informing me he had the afternoon off. I even debated turning around and catching a later bus, but didn't have the motivation (mainly b/c I looked pretty rough). If I had known that the Ibanker rejection would be taking place roughly 48 hours from then I probably would have. Instead I passed out for the full four hours back to NYC.
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Lascivious Labor Day-- Part 2
The morning after the Aussie debacle I had to wake up early. My cousin and her husband were in town for a short trip and I was to act as their tour guide around the city for the afternoon. I was being paid by having them bring some stuff down from Syracuse for me. I was late meeting them, as usual, and had to haul ass down 5th ave to Columbus Circle. Of course that day was exceptionally hot even by 11am and when I reached them I was sweaty and ready to collapse. I was not pleased to learn that they had taken the subway in instead of driving so they were CARRYING all my shit--a bag filled with dishes and a lamp with its base as the Eiffel Tower. Great. My cousin's husband was a doll and carried the bag but I was stuck with the lamp. We decided from the start to have fun with it. We were going to take a touristy picture every place we passed with the lamp. We started with a still life with the lamp on the rocks in Central Park and then moved onto the Plaza Hotel. We convinced the doorman to pose with us while holding the lamp then set our sights on FAO Schwartz (after a quick shot with a hotdog vendor of course). Before entering we had the weirdo dressed as a toy soldier out front pose for a shot then made our way inside. We wandered for a bit, and had roughly 5-10 people stop me and ask me where I got the lamp. Our answers included Paris, and the store next door. We finally found the Grand Piano from Big and took our place in line. We were dancing on the Piano, along with all the 5 years olds, and the lamp was coming with. There are now multiple pictures of my cousin and I jumping around on this piano, and we even purchased the professional one they take and have for sale, amusement park style. We hit up other hot spots throughout the day, including Rockefellar Center, Times Square and the Central Park Zoo. People continued to lose their shit over this lamp, with almost every other person on the street stopping to tell me they loved my lamp. Now, this is New York City. There are far stranger things people could be doing. The previous week I had seen a guy riding his bike down the street in his underwear screaming at the top of his lungs. But for some reason a lamp shaped like the Eiffel Tower made people stop in their tracks, and I still do not get why.
After my day with my cousins and the lamp I trucked my belongings back to "East Williamsburg" (and had to scold a man on the subway for touching the base of the lamp when he thought I wasn't looking) and took my nap. When I awoke it was time to start getting ready to meet Coffee. We were going out once again. He had invited me out with his friends to Greenhouse (where I had been VIP with GF my second weekend in NYC). I was tired and hesistant to go but rallied, as I always do. I met him in Soho where he informed me he had just found out that Sunday nights Greenhouse are gay nights. Not surprising since his friend happened to be, umm, gay! I had no qualms though and was pleased that no one would be bothering me. The gaggle of gays that awaited us were nice, especially Coffee's friend and his tiny little friend. There was an open bar for an hour and after a couple of those drinks I decided that yes I could dance a little bit to some Lady Gaga. A bit into the night I also noticed one of my former coworkers from that fucking coffee shop where I used to work, the one with the missing hand who had tried to ask me out. I chatted with him for a minute and we commiserated over how much the fucking coffee shop had sucked. After this Coffee and I decided that the place was getting a little too gay so we headed out to see what else the night held. We somehow settled on a bar called the Room, further into Soho. It was a wine bar/lounge and I really liked it. I instructed Coffee to order me a Malbec and trucked it to the bathroom. When I returned I joined him on the coach, accepting the fact that I was a little drunk. We chatted and the only part of it I clearly remember was him asking how I get to be so worldly when I was from Syracuse. I replied in a loud voice, while sloshing wine over my glass that I didn't know "how I got to be so classy", direct quote. I'm sure he was very impressed. We ended the night at a delicious pizza place and I made it home at around 4:30am, on what was supposed to be a low-key night. Never in New York.
The next day Yahtzee and I had tentative plans to go to the beach. When I woke up, the weather looked pretty cloudy and wasn't as warm as it was supposed to be. I could tell Yahtzee was hesitant to truck all the way out to Coney Island, but I somehow convinced him to do it, confident that it would be sunny once we arrived. After almost an hour spent on the train, we exited to discover that it was at least 10 degrees cooler than in the City with a strong wind to match. Oops. We headed to the beach anyway and lay there for almost an hour shivering before we couldn't take it anymore. It was then that Yahtzee decided to take his revenge. I hate amusment parks to begin with and unfortunately we were in the tackiest of the tacky. He decided that we weren't leaving until we had gone on the Cyclone, which is apparently the oldest roller coaster in the US and looks like a decrepit piece of shit. I wanted nothing to do with it, but after dragging him all the way out there I couldn't say no. He bought my ticket and forced us to stand and wait for the front car. I was shaking at this point, since I hate heights. We got in, and the thing creaked up an almost 90 degree incline. Looking straight down, I put my head down and saw my life flash before my eyes. It was interrupted by my face slamming into the laprest. My head was then violently thrown back and my headband flew off, never to be seen again. The second casualty of the weekend. I endured the rest of the nightmare-ish ride screaming and praying to God that I hadn't lost any teeth (I didn't). Afterwards, I felt nauseous and self-concious of my wild hair and luckily Yahtzee agreed to head back to the subway. We had plans in a few hours to go to a bar for all you can eat lobster (his idea, not mine) but I turned down his invite to shower at his place. This was before the ending of Ibanker and I figured that would be a little bit weird. I headed back to mine and promptly fell asleep. Because of this I was pretty late meeting Yahtzee and his roommate at the bar. They were almost finished eating by the time I arrived, but I tried a piece of disgusting lobster anyway and was immediately put off by the stringyness. I ordered myself some mozz sticks and a beer and chatted with them. And that's where the weekend ends and not a moment too soon. Labor Day weekend had exhausted me and it was time to call it quits. Back to the subway I went.
After my day with my cousins and the lamp I trucked my belongings back to "East Williamsburg" (and had to scold a man on the subway for touching the base of the lamp when he thought I wasn't looking) and took my nap. When I awoke it was time to start getting ready to meet Coffee. We were going out once again. He had invited me out with his friends to Greenhouse (where I had been VIP with GF my second weekend in NYC). I was tired and hesistant to go but rallied, as I always do. I met him in Soho where he informed me he had just found out that Sunday nights Greenhouse are gay nights. Not surprising since his friend happened to be, umm, gay! I had no qualms though and was pleased that no one would be bothering me. The gaggle of gays that awaited us were nice, especially Coffee's friend and his tiny little friend. There was an open bar for an hour and after a couple of those drinks I decided that yes I could dance a little bit to some Lady Gaga. A bit into the night I also noticed one of my former coworkers from that fucking coffee shop where I used to work, the one with the missing hand who had tried to ask me out. I chatted with him for a minute and we commiserated over how much the fucking coffee shop had sucked. After this Coffee and I decided that the place was getting a little too gay so we headed out to see what else the night held. We somehow settled on a bar called the Room, further into Soho. It was a wine bar/lounge and I really liked it. I instructed Coffee to order me a Malbec and trucked it to the bathroom. When I returned I joined him on the coach, accepting the fact that I was a little drunk. We chatted and the only part of it I clearly remember was him asking how I get to be so worldly when I was from Syracuse. I replied in a loud voice, while sloshing wine over my glass that I didn't know "how I got to be so classy", direct quote. I'm sure he was very impressed. We ended the night at a delicious pizza place and I made it home at around 4:30am, on what was supposed to be a low-key night. Never in New York.
The next day Yahtzee and I had tentative plans to go to the beach. When I woke up, the weather looked pretty cloudy and wasn't as warm as it was supposed to be. I could tell Yahtzee was hesitant to truck all the way out to Coney Island, but I somehow convinced him to do it, confident that it would be sunny once we arrived. After almost an hour spent on the train, we exited to discover that it was at least 10 degrees cooler than in the City with a strong wind to match. Oops. We headed to the beach anyway and lay there for almost an hour shivering before we couldn't take it anymore. It was then that Yahtzee decided to take his revenge. I hate amusment parks to begin with and unfortunately we were in the tackiest of the tacky. He decided that we weren't leaving until we had gone on the Cyclone, which is apparently the oldest roller coaster in the US and looks like a decrepit piece of shit. I wanted nothing to do with it, but after dragging him all the way out there I couldn't say no. He bought my ticket and forced us to stand and wait for the front car. I was shaking at this point, since I hate heights. We got in, and the thing creaked up an almost 90 degree incline. Looking straight down, I put my head down and saw my life flash before my eyes. It was interrupted by my face slamming into the laprest. My head was then violently thrown back and my headband flew off, never to be seen again. The second casualty of the weekend. I endured the rest of the nightmare-ish ride screaming and praying to God that I hadn't lost any teeth (I didn't). Afterwards, I felt nauseous and self-concious of my wild hair and luckily Yahtzee agreed to head back to the subway. We had plans in a few hours to go to a bar for all you can eat lobster (his idea, not mine) but I turned down his invite to shower at his place. This was before the ending of Ibanker and I figured that would be a little bit weird. I headed back to mine and promptly fell asleep. Because of this I was pretty late meeting Yahtzee and his roommate at the bar. They were almost finished eating by the time I arrived, but I tried a piece of disgusting lobster anyway and was immediately put off by the stringyness. I ordered myself some mozz sticks and a beer and chatted with them. And that's where the weekend ends and not a moment too soon. Labor Day weekend had exhausted me and it was time to call it quits. Back to the subway I went.
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