Every once in awhile I get sick of New York. I go through a few-day stage where I just hate the city and wonder why I ever moved here. It then passes after a good night out or a successful shopping trip. I hadn't had this happen since I had moved into Manhattan. I had been having fun going out and being in the midst of things. But now that I was two months in, this feeling was about to hit me and hit me hard. I had been going out way too much and was exhausted. It was also roughly 125 degrees in the City and I was sweating constantly. The 4th of July was the culmination of it. I made the mistake of going out the night before, with Atl and GF. We were set on having a big night, and those nights usually end up the worst. We headed to Ludlow Manor, but couldn't get up to the rooftop because of a private party. We had a couple drinks and then headed across the street to Hotel Chantelle. I hadn't been since the fateful night things ended with Ibanker and it had since turned into a total scene and was no longer that cool. We had another couple drinks but then quickly grew bored. We wandered around the Lower East Side, stopping for terrible 99 cent pizza. We then decided to go into the nearest bar, which turned out to be packed to the brim with hipsters. There was a jukebox in the corner and we all spent about 15 minutes choosing our songs before realizing that it was unplugged. We sat at the bar drinking PBRs and asked a nearby hipster to take our picture. He was actually friendly and he and his friend started chatting with us. Atl and GF went outside to smoke and I was left with the hipsters who rapid fired questions at me. I answered right on cue and at the end of it they told me that they did this to people all the time but I had been the best out of everyone. Winning.
After, since we didn't know what else to do, we let GF persuade us to go to a gay bar in the West Village. Mistake on our part. There was a huge line out front, so while he waited in it Atl and I headed to another bar around the corner to pee. It turns out that this was a Russian bar and it was karaoke night. There was a large Russian man with the microphone in hand, singing along to the Cyrillic letters streaming across the screen. I loved the whole thing and would've stayed to watch but needed to attend to GF. Once we made it through the line, we found out it was also karaoke night at the gay bar. And so did the rest of New York City, since the bar was ridiculously crowded with sweaty dudes. We squeezed ourselves into a corner and signed up to sing Real McCoy's Another Night, but the wait time was over an hour and Atl and I had had enough. We dipped out leaving GF to chat with the new friend he had made in line.
The next day I was extremely hungover, which is a complete waste if the night before wasn't very good. So I was already in a bad mood and it was once again 175 degrees outside. Our 4th of July plans weren't solidified, which also annoyed me. Eventually they were made--go to Boat Basin with GA, her boyfriend and her boyfriend's friend who allegedly had a table. So I squeezed into my jeggings, which were the only bottoms that matched the patriotically-striped shirt I wanted to wear. MISTAKE. As soon as I stepped outside they were soaked through with sweat and also extremely tight, since I was starting to gain weight from all the drinking. We trucked up to Boat Basin, which was on the Upper West Side (aka not at all close to our apartment) which was packed with sweaty people and there was no free table to be found. We stood around miserably for awhile and drank and I descended into a terrible mood that I couldn't shake. All I wanted to do for the 4th of July was something suburban--sit in a backyard, eat bbq and drink water. I was sick of having to go to bars and drink whenever I wanted to do something social. I wanted air conditioning and a big comfortable apartment, with cable tv. This is not part of my life in NYC and I was getting sick of it. I needed a break big time. The rest of our day consisted of trucking to Meatpacking to meet up with Russian Rocher, when GF and I could no longer take Boat Basin. We grabbed burgers in an unairconditioned fast food place and finally decided to go to the Thompson Hotel, to the rooftop there. We actually snagged a table by some miracle and by then it had cooled to 115 degrees, so the temperature was much more pleasant. We sat and waited for the fireworks to start, even though none of us was very excited for them. Though we were all annoyed when, when they started, a pack of 8 feet tall Swedish tourists squeezed their way in front of us. MY country's celebration, not yours. After the show, we all just headed home, I think all relieved that the day was finally over.
I was also very relieved that I would be getting a break from New York for the next month or so. I was going to be out of town quite a bit, first for a weekend in the Cuse then work trips to Chicago and Boston, and finally my big vaca plans to San Francisco and Mexico City. In fact, I left a couple days later for the Cuse trip, to see Mouth, who was in town from Arizona, and also pregnant. I hadn't seen her since her wedding the previous summer and it was nice to hang out with her, though weird that we were now officially adults (her pregnancy solidifying this). I spent the weekend doing suburban things, like hang out in Mouth's backyard and driving around in an air conditioned car. I also disgusted my parents with the nasty cough I had developed from my party lifestyle in New York.
I was also in town for bleaker reasons. This was going to be my last trip staying in the house where I had grown up. My mother was leaving my father and moving to North Carolina, and the house had been sold. After this trip, I felt like I would no longer have a home nor a family. This all hit me when I was packing up my stuff to leave and walked out for the last time. I met my dad in the garage and immediately burst into tears. This continued on the drive to the bus station and I spent the bus ride listening to emo songs on my ipod, with tears sliding down my cheeks. A sampling from my playlist: Lykke Li- Possibility, Grizzly Bear- Slow Life, and finally, Iron & Wine- Such Great Heights. (These were also the songs I played on repeat for about two weeks after Ibanker). So needless to say, I was a goddamned mess and super out of it when I got off the bus in Port Authority. I debated taking a cab but I wanted to try and save money so I opted for the subway. As I walked up a bunch of people were walking out through the emergency exit. A guy held the door for me and I hesitated for a second and then decided to go through without swiping my card. I have never done this in New York and of course the one time, plainclothes police greeted me on the other side. I stood there miserably while they checked to see if I had a warrant (do I look like I would have an effing warrant??). I also watched a mother and her child walk through and nothing was done. They wrote me a ticket, which I was expecting. What I didn't expect was the ridiculous amount--$125. I was pissed and on the verge of tears again, and when I walked down to my platform, I discovered my line wasn't even running that night. So I went up to take a cab which I should've just fucking done in the first place. I walked a couple blocks to find one and on the way tripped over a grate in the sidewalk and broke my sandal (my fave pair). I finally spotted one, and dove in, where I immediately burst into tears again. I sent an emergency text to Mairey who called me right back and talked me off the ledge.
I had just returned to New York and I was already ready to leave. Luckily, I would be getting my much-needed break soon.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Mel Mel Puff
One Thursday, it was shortly before the end of my work day when I received a text from Charlie Kelly. He said that he had an extra ticket to see a Sublime cover band on a booze cruise that night. Actually, in a couple hours. Usually I am not one to like a last-minute, hastily put together plan, and this was clearly a desperation invite, since someone had probably bailed at the last minute. But I decided that I would go anyway since I had no other plans for my night, besides standing over my kitchen sink eating an entire carton of blueberries.
So a couple of hours later, I met Charlie Kelly at the same pier where I had met the Playboy on the booze cruise a couple of months earlier. And I of course once again brought my sailor hat to wear at an appropriate moment. The passengers on this cruise were... interesting. In other words, there were quite a few slonkeys. Not surprisingly since this was a Sublime cover band after all. We sat on the upper deck for awhile, to escape the crowd inside. Charlie Kelly pounded drinks like they were water but I knew I had to take it easy, since I had to work the next morning. I'm sure he was not very pleased with me since in lieu of paying for this ticket I was supposed to buy him drinks. However I was unaware that the boat was cash only and he was forced to pay for all of ours. He did not let his annoyance show though and after a few we took some scenic shots of us in my sailor hat in front of the Statue of Liberty. We then headed downstairs to watch the band, where I'm sure my lack of enthusiasm was apparent.
Afterwards Charlie Kelly wanted to keep drinking, and since it wasn't that late I agreed. We headed to the Lower East Side, since he was going to be meeting some friends there later. He had been talking up how cool this place A Lounge was, so we headed there. We entered to this scene: absolutely no one in the place except two guys at a booth in the corner, both on their cell phones. On the small stage at the end of the room was the most ridiculous performer I had ever seen. She was dressed in a Lady Gaga-esque outfit, of bright neon and embellishments everywhere. There were props on the stage around her, with smoke billowing and a girl taking her picture every few minutes. She was singing along to electronic-type music. The bartender was laughing and looked grateful to have us there. Charlie Kelly took his drink, lowered his sunglasses and started dancing around. The singer loved this and when her song ended (which she had introduced as going viral) she screamed that her name was Melody Joy aka "Mel Mel Puff" and told the bartender to get us some shots. Charlie Kelly danced through her next few songs, one of which was called "Why You Mad Bro" and I stood entranced at what was going on around me. Here is a sampling: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBfY_ahDzoU
After her performance she and her friend came over to greet us. We thanked her for the shots and she thanked us for coming out to see her. She turned out to be from Pittsburgh and was now trying to make it big in New York. She was actually very nice and normal to talk to and even let me try on her boondoggle sunglasses! She also seemed to take an interest in Charlie Kelly which I chuckled at. They had to pack up and head out thought and we did the same. We grabbed another beer at the bar next door and I then I headed home before the friends showed up and I made a night of it.
Making a night of it would be for a couple nights later. On my recent trip back to Syracuse I had run into a family friend at Port Authority. He was heading back to Cuse as well and he saved me from having to sit next to a smelly fatty on the bus. He also shared half his sandwich with me and we had amusing convos. For this I had scored an invite to his bday party, which was being held this particular Saturday. I took Atl along for company. He lived in Chinatown and apparently had his own rooftop. This was correct and was huuuge, and almost right next to the Manhattan Bridge. In the corner he had set up a grilling station and some lawn chairs. I had joked to him that I was going to bring some boxed wine with me, but I had no idea how difficult it would be to find. Like it's a precious commodity or something. So I settled with Sutter Home and drank that while he grilled up some food for us. Every 5-7 min the R train would speed by on the bridge and Atl and I amused ourselves by waving to the people on the tour buses.
We ate a delish meal and Fam Friend regaled us with stories of living in Chinatown--how the old ladies in his stairwell always glared at him and how he had never seen so many people spit in his life. We also told him about our favorite phrase "swamp donkey" aka slonkey and we all discussed that for awhile. After eating more guests arrived and I hit the Sutter Home pretty hard. Not such a good idea, it turns out. We had plans to head to a bar in the LES which I called the Roach Bar, as I had seen a giant roach there with GF last summer. We all trucked through Chinatown to get there. My memories here are a bit fuzzy. I know Atl and another girl ran to a bodega to buy Fam Friend a bday pre-packaged muffin. We all took a shot. He then made friends with a larger black girl and Atl began to yell "boob shot, boob shot". It happened, followed by the most ridiculous group picture where Atl is basically holding me up. I know we stayed for awhile, I know I eventually grew bored and ended up texting with....the Playboy. We had been texting the past few weekends but hadn't met up. I hadn't seen him in probably a month, so this seemed like the perfect night, when I was blackout drunk.
I persuaded Atl to leave and I hope I said bye to Fam Friend. I'm sure he was less than impressed with me, since I was too drunk to be any fun, let alone social. Ehhh. I had our cab drop me off at Playboy's apartment. I stumbled up to the entryway (thank god the doorman wasn't there) and tried to ring his bell. Except I was very drunk and must have been pushing the wrong button, multiple times. A few minutes later, a mean-looking old man appeared in the doorway. He asked what I was doing there and who I was there to see. I ignored him and tried to make my way through the door. He was having none of it and pushed the door shut in my face. What a dick. I finally had to call the Playboy so he could come down and let my drunk ass in. I had a good chuckle about what had happened, but he was less amused, because he has no sense of humor whatsoever. Even in my state, I once again refused to have sex with him and then promptly passed out after making out for awhile.
In the morning I was disoriented and not feeling great, obviously. I tried to sneak out without waking him but that was a fail. We had some strained convo while I got dressed and then I saw myself out. Luckily I didn't run into the mean old man. Besides the playboy I had just left! Not my finest showing in New York, but what can you do.
So a couple of hours later, I met Charlie Kelly at the same pier where I had met the Playboy on the booze cruise a couple of months earlier. And I of course once again brought my sailor hat to wear at an appropriate moment. The passengers on this cruise were... interesting. In other words, there were quite a few slonkeys. Not surprisingly since this was a Sublime cover band after all. We sat on the upper deck for awhile, to escape the crowd inside. Charlie Kelly pounded drinks like they were water but I knew I had to take it easy, since I had to work the next morning. I'm sure he was not very pleased with me since in lieu of paying for this ticket I was supposed to buy him drinks. However I was unaware that the boat was cash only and he was forced to pay for all of ours. He did not let his annoyance show though and after a few we took some scenic shots of us in my sailor hat in front of the Statue of Liberty. We then headed downstairs to watch the band, where I'm sure my lack of enthusiasm was apparent.
Afterwards Charlie Kelly wanted to keep drinking, and since it wasn't that late I agreed. We headed to the Lower East Side, since he was going to be meeting some friends there later. He had been talking up how cool this place A Lounge was, so we headed there. We entered to this scene: absolutely no one in the place except two guys at a booth in the corner, both on their cell phones. On the small stage at the end of the room was the most ridiculous performer I had ever seen. She was dressed in a Lady Gaga-esque outfit, of bright neon and embellishments everywhere. There were props on the stage around her, with smoke billowing and a girl taking her picture every few minutes. She was singing along to electronic-type music. The bartender was laughing and looked grateful to have us there. Charlie Kelly took his drink, lowered his sunglasses and started dancing around. The singer loved this and when her song ended (which she had introduced as going viral) she screamed that her name was Melody Joy aka "Mel Mel Puff" and told the bartender to get us some shots. Charlie Kelly danced through her next few songs, one of which was called "Why You Mad Bro" and I stood entranced at what was going on around me. Here is a sampling: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fBfY_ahDzoU
After her performance she and her friend came over to greet us. We thanked her for the shots and she thanked us for coming out to see her. She turned out to be from Pittsburgh and was now trying to make it big in New York. She was actually very nice and normal to talk to and even let me try on her boondoggle sunglasses! She also seemed to take an interest in Charlie Kelly which I chuckled at. They had to pack up and head out thought and we did the same. We grabbed another beer at the bar next door and I then I headed home before the friends showed up and I made a night of it.
Making a night of it would be for a couple nights later. On my recent trip back to Syracuse I had run into a family friend at Port Authority. He was heading back to Cuse as well and he saved me from having to sit next to a smelly fatty on the bus. He also shared half his sandwich with me and we had amusing convos. For this I had scored an invite to his bday party, which was being held this particular Saturday. I took Atl along for company. He lived in Chinatown and apparently had his own rooftop. This was correct and was huuuge, and almost right next to the Manhattan Bridge. In the corner he had set up a grilling station and some lawn chairs. I had joked to him that I was going to bring some boxed wine with me, but I had no idea how difficult it would be to find. Like it's a precious commodity or something. So I settled with Sutter Home and drank that while he grilled up some food for us. Every 5-7 min the R train would speed by on the bridge and Atl and I amused ourselves by waving to the people on the tour buses.
We ate a delish meal and Fam Friend regaled us with stories of living in Chinatown--how the old ladies in his stairwell always glared at him and how he had never seen so many people spit in his life. We also told him about our favorite phrase "swamp donkey" aka slonkey and we all discussed that for awhile. After eating more guests arrived and I hit the Sutter Home pretty hard. Not such a good idea, it turns out. We had plans to head to a bar in the LES which I called the Roach Bar, as I had seen a giant roach there with GF last summer. We all trucked through Chinatown to get there. My memories here are a bit fuzzy. I know Atl and another girl ran to a bodega to buy Fam Friend a bday pre-packaged muffin. We all took a shot. He then made friends with a larger black girl and Atl began to yell "boob shot, boob shot". It happened, followed by the most ridiculous group picture where Atl is basically holding me up. I know we stayed for awhile, I know I eventually grew bored and ended up texting with....the Playboy. We had been texting the past few weekends but hadn't met up. I hadn't seen him in probably a month, so this seemed like the perfect night, when I was blackout drunk.
I persuaded Atl to leave and I hope I said bye to Fam Friend. I'm sure he was less than impressed with me, since I was too drunk to be any fun, let alone social. Ehhh. I had our cab drop me off at Playboy's apartment. I stumbled up to the entryway (thank god the doorman wasn't there) and tried to ring his bell. Except I was very drunk and must have been pushing the wrong button, multiple times. A few minutes later, a mean-looking old man appeared in the doorway. He asked what I was doing there and who I was there to see. I ignored him and tried to make my way through the door. He was having none of it and pushed the door shut in my face. What a dick. I finally had to call the Playboy so he could come down and let my drunk ass in. I had a good chuckle about what had happened, but he was less amused, because he has no sense of humor whatsoever. Even in my state, I once again refused to have sex with him and then promptly passed out after making out for awhile.
In the morning I was disoriented and not feeling great, obviously. I tried to sneak out without waking him but that was a fail. We had some strained convo while I got dressed and then I saw myself out. Luckily I didn't run into the mean old man. Besides the playboy I had just left! Not my finest showing in New York, but what can you do.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
So I fell again....
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.
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.
Monday, July 16, 2012
So Call Me...Crazy
Really, I don't know what came over me. Too much time in NYC without a break, too much partying and not enough sleep, being fed up with boys? Probably a combo of all.
It all started the day after my bender. I felt bad that we had lost Slonks the night before, especially since I was not sure that we would see him again, before he moved to Denmark. To be with his girlfriend. Probably my cue to stay away. But did I do that? Nope. So I friended him on Facebook and sent him a message apologizing for losing him. He responded positively and said that we should hang out again the next weekend. A few exchanges back and forth and we made tentative plans to meet up. And to my slight surprise, Friday evening he texted, asking what my plans were. I had to go to a bday party in the LES and he said he was heading to that area.
But first I had to intervene on Atl's bad date at Sons of Essex. She had met this guy a couple nights ago at one of GA's events. She had drunkenly agreed to go out with him and since she was drunk, had not realized that he was a pretty huge tool. He was boring and condescending, which in my opinion is one of the worst combos. Our plan was to have me stop in and act like I needed her to come with me somewhere, leaving him behind after a drink. Except when I arrived he had somehow managed to get a table and invite one of his friends along. We were stuck. We sat down at the table but refused to get food. Luckily when the friend showed up, he turned out to be much more socialable but we were still not about to devote our night to them. I had to head to this bday party and then more importantly, meet up with Slonks. We were at a loss for what to do, so Atl stepped up to the plate and announced that we were going to leave and would text them after the bday party. I'm sure they knew this was bullshit and I felt guilty for leaving them, but I guess it wasn't my date.
This situation had really set us back time-wise so we made the executive decision to skip the bday party, to ensure we did not miss Slonks. He had texted saying that was at Hotel Chantelle, so we headed that way. I received another text from him as we were walking up that he was at the rooftop bar across the street and that Deux was also on his way. NOT part of the plan. Deux was trouble and I knew he would try and prevent whatever could happen from happening. But there was no turning back now. We made our way upstairs to a covered rooftop with red lights and a mini-pool in the middle. It was the strangest assortment of people I have ever seen in one bar--a mix of NYU kids, a few financy people (mostly made up of Slonks and Deux's friends) and a whole new breed of hipster. Different from the Williamsburg/Bushwick hipster, which tended to lean towards the nerdy side. These hipsters were more hardcore; the best description would be "Berlin Glam", which I'm aware probably makes no sense. You just had to see these hipsters in person.
Anyway we joined Slonks and Co and socialized. We were having a great time giving Deux a hard time after the following incident: he went to the bar and asked Atl and me what we wanted to drink. I informed him we would take two Stoli Sodas. We watched him stand at the bar for awhile and then it seemed like he was having an argument with the bartender. He finally returned a bit later with two vodka sodas in hand. When I asked him what took so long he responded that "the bar didn't have any 'silly sodas', so he just got us vodka sodas. Idiot! This led us all to be a bit meaner than we should've been towards poor Deux. But as usual he had it coming. When we walked to the Bowery to go to another bar, we all questioned Deux leading the way. He did end up finding the place and we all had a dance party to Call Me Maybe. Slonks and I had been chatting for most of the night and Deux was noticing. He kept trying to interrupt but then changed his mind and went and made out with some girl ont he dancefloor. He failed to lock her down though and she disappeared soon after. And so was everyone else in our group--the friends slowly started to leave the bar, including Atl, until it was just me, Slonks...and Deux. He was not getting the hint, or was refusing to take it. I sighed, went to the bathroom and tried to think of a game plan. I decided that I was just going to have to go home but when I returned Deux was miraculously gone!
Now, Slonks and I had obviously not determind if something was going to happen between us, but he had had his arm around me for most of the end of the night. Decision time was upon though, since the bar was closing. We walked outside and who was standing there waiting but Deux! Inwardly cursing him, I announced that I was going to walk home. Slonks would not allow this and said we would take a cab. The two of us went to get into one as Deux watched us. He then asked if he could share since he was on the way (he was not, no matter where we were going). Slonks agreed--I like to think he didn't know what else to do at that point. I also like to think that the events leading up to that moment proved that he wanted something to happen. So I made the drunken decision to very slyly send him a text, even though we were sitting together in the backseat. This text said "You can come back with me if you want". His response was something along the lines of wanting to but going through a lot and that it was weird with Deux there. Ehhhh awkward. When we pulled up to Avenue C I basically ran out of the cab as he tried to hug me goodbye. I sent him a text apologizing and he said it was fine, followed a few minutes later by a text asking if he should come back, then a correction saying he wanted to hang out soon and bidding me goodnight.
I woke up in the morning not pleased at all with my actions. I debated what to do the whole day, as if something needed to be done. I had a bday party for HH, who was in town that I was going to with GF that night. We had a lovely steak dinner and then headed to an 80s bar in Midtown. This turned out to be the worst bar I have been to in NYC besides Pacha. There was a $20 cover and it was filled with the most disgusting B&T people I have witnessed to date. B&T bachelorette parties, older B&Ters who had their heyday in the 80s--it was gross and not our scene at all. In the midst of all this I made a bad decision. Who wouldn't being surrounded by that. I was feeling inspired and wanted to be cute to try and make things better so I sent Slonks the following text:
Hey <Slonks>, this is crazy, but here I am trying to hang out with you when you have a girlfriend, so kill me maybe
And no he did not find the humor in this but in a surprising twist replied that he had found the previous week that the Danish girlfriend had cheated on him. But he had quit his job here and had a new one lined up over there so still had to move. I had no idea what to say so I left it until the next day, where I sent a series of texts trying to both show my sympathy and alleviate any awkwardness and suceeding in doing just the opposite.
I was not happy with my actions from the weekend and I did not contact him at all that week and even decided to go to Cuse the next weekend. After the previous weekend I needed to clear my head and take a break from the City, since it was clearly driving me nuts. I returned feeling refreshed and sent him one last text a couple days before he was scheduled to leave wishing him luck. He responded right away saying he was having friends out for goodbye drinks the next night and invited me. My chance to make things right! I recruited Atl and the next evening we trucked in the heat to Midtown East. We arrived to the German bar, looking like messes, since she was in her gym clothes and mine were about as sweaty as hers. Luckily just a couple friends were present, including one who had been with us the other night, and not including Deux. Things weren't too terribly awkward between Slonks and I and were basically fine a few beer steins later. I was acting like nothing happened but I managed to catch him in a lie. He was telling me about his apartment in Denmark and his "friend" he was going to be living with--I knew for a fact that he was moving in with the girlfriend. He also bought me another beer stein out of nowhere, at the end of the night, even though I still had a full one in front of me. I later found out that Atl had instructed him to do so. Though hilarious, Slonks is dorky and clueless. After his friend started hitting on me I decided that it was time to go before things got out of control. I needed to remove myself from that group of guys, so I hugged Slonks goodbye and left with my dignity intact.
I have not spoken to him since, but according to facebook, he seems very happy in Denmark with his girlfriend. And I am very happy that I am not a homewrecker.
It all started the day after my bender. I felt bad that we had lost Slonks the night before, especially since I was not sure that we would see him again, before he moved to Denmark. To be with his girlfriend. Probably my cue to stay away. But did I do that? Nope. So I friended him on Facebook and sent him a message apologizing for losing him. He responded positively and said that we should hang out again the next weekend. A few exchanges back and forth and we made tentative plans to meet up. And to my slight surprise, Friday evening he texted, asking what my plans were. I had to go to a bday party in the LES and he said he was heading to that area.
But first I had to intervene on Atl's bad date at Sons of Essex. She had met this guy a couple nights ago at one of GA's events. She had drunkenly agreed to go out with him and since she was drunk, had not realized that he was a pretty huge tool. He was boring and condescending, which in my opinion is one of the worst combos. Our plan was to have me stop in and act like I needed her to come with me somewhere, leaving him behind after a drink. Except when I arrived he had somehow managed to get a table and invite one of his friends along. We were stuck. We sat down at the table but refused to get food. Luckily when the friend showed up, he turned out to be much more socialable but we were still not about to devote our night to them. I had to head to this bday party and then more importantly, meet up with Slonks. We were at a loss for what to do, so Atl stepped up to the plate and announced that we were going to leave and would text them after the bday party. I'm sure they knew this was bullshit and I felt guilty for leaving them, but I guess it wasn't my date.
This situation had really set us back time-wise so we made the executive decision to skip the bday party, to ensure we did not miss Slonks. He had texted saying that was at Hotel Chantelle, so we headed that way. I received another text from him as we were walking up that he was at the rooftop bar across the street and that Deux was also on his way. NOT part of the plan. Deux was trouble and I knew he would try and prevent whatever could happen from happening. But there was no turning back now. We made our way upstairs to a covered rooftop with red lights and a mini-pool in the middle. It was the strangest assortment of people I have ever seen in one bar--a mix of NYU kids, a few financy people (mostly made up of Slonks and Deux's friends) and a whole new breed of hipster. Different from the Williamsburg/Bushwick hipster, which tended to lean towards the nerdy side. These hipsters were more hardcore; the best description would be "Berlin Glam", which I'm aware probably makes no sense. You just had to see these hipsters in person.
Anyway we joined Slonks and Co and socialized. We were having a great time giving Deux a hard time after the following incident: he went to the bar and asked Atl and me what we wanted to drink. I informed him we would take two Stoli Sodas. We watched him stand at the bar for awhile and then it seemed like he was having an argument with the bartender. He finally returned a bit later with two vodka sodas in hand. When I asked him what took so long he responded that "the bar didn't have any 'silly sodas', so he just got us vodka sodas. Idiot! This led us all to be a bit meaner than we should've been towards poor Deux. But as usual he had it coming. When we walked to the Bowery to go to another bar, we all questioned Deux leading the way. He did end up finding the place and we all had a dance party to Call Me Maybe. Slonks and I had been chatting for most of the night and Deux was noticing. He kept trying to interrupt but then changed his mind and went and made out with some girl ont he dancefloor. He failed to lock her down though and she disappeared soon after. And so was everyone else in our group--the friends slowly started to leave the bar, including Atl, until it was just me, Slonks...and Deux. He was not getting the hint, or was refusing to take it. I sighed, went to the bathroom and tried to think of a game plan. I decided that I was just going to have to go home but when I returned Deux was miraculously gone!
Now, Slonks and I had obviously not determind if something was going to happen between us, but he had had his arm around me for most of the end of the night. Decision time was upon though, since the bar was closing. We walked outside and who was standing there waiting but Deux! Inwardly cursing him, I announced that I was going to walk home. Slonks would not allow this and said we would take a cab. The two of us went to get into one as Deux watched us. He then asked if he could share since he was on the way (he was not, no matter where we were going). Slonks agreed--I like to think he didn't know what else to do at that point. I also like to think that the events leading up to that moment proved that he wanted something to happen. So I made the drunken decision to very slyly send him a text, even though we were sitting together in the backseat. This text said "You can come back with me if you want". His response was something along the lines of wanting to but going through a lot and that it was weird with Deux there. Ehhhh awkward. When we pulled up to Avenue C I basically ran out of the cab as he tried to hug me goodbye. I sent him a text apologizing and he said it was fine, followed a few minutes later by a text asking if he should come back, then a correction saying he wanted to hang out soon and bidding me goodnight.
I woke up in the morning not pleased at all with my actions. I debated what to do the whole day, as if something needed to be done. I had a bday party for HH, who was in town that I was going to with GF that night. We had a lovely steak dinner and then headed to an 80s bar in Midtown. This turned out to be the worst bar I have been to in NYC besides Pacha. There was a $20 cover and it was filled with the most disgusting B&T people I have witnessed to date. B&T bachelorette parties, older B&Ters who had their heyday in the 80s--it was gross and not our scene at all. In the midst of all this I made a bad decision. Who wouldn't being surrounded by that. I was feeling inspired and wanted to be cute to try and make things better so I sent Slonks the following text:
Hey <Slonks>, this is crazy, but here I am trying to hang out with you when you have a girlfriend, so kill me maybe
And no he did not find the humor in this but in a surprising twist replied that he had found the previous week that the Danish girlfriend had cheated on him. But he had quit his job here and had a new one lined up over there so still had to move. I had no idea what to say so I left it until the next day, where I sent a series of texts trying to both show my sympathy and alleviate any awkwardness and suceeding in doing just the opposite.
I was not happy with my actions from the weekend and I did not contact him at all that week and even decided to go to Cuse the next weekend. After the previous weekend I needed to clear my head and take a break from the City, since it was clearly driving me nuts. I returned feeling refreshed and sent him one last text a couple days before he was scheduled to leave wishing him luck. He responded right away saying he was having friends out for goodbye drinks the next night and invited me. My chance to make things right! I recruited Atl and the next evening we trucked in the heat to Midtown East. We arrived to the German bar, looking like messes, since she was in her gym clothes and mine were about as sweaty as hers. Luckily just a couple friends were present, including one who had been with us the other night, and not including Deux. Things weren't too terribly awkward between Slonks and I and were basically fine a few beer steins later. I was acting like nothing happened but I managed to catch him in a lie. He was telling me about his apartment in Denmark and his "friend" he was going to be living with--I knew for a fact that he was moving in with the girlfriend. He also bought me another beer stein out of nowhere, at the end of the night, even though I still had a full one in front of me. I later found out that Atl had instructed him to do so. Though hilarious, Slonks is dorky and clueless. After his friend started hitting on me I decided that it was time to go before things got out of control. I needed to remove myself from that group of guys, so I hugged Slonks goodbye and left with my dignity intact.
I have not spoken to him since, but according to facebook, he seems very happy in Denmark with his girlfriend. And I am very happy that I am not a homewrecker.
Sunday, July 15, 2012
"We must have looked like prostitutes"
Though I needed a partying break after our AC trip I only got a few days before the weekend started all over again. And early, thanks to GA and a party she was hosting. She had invited Atl and I to a happy hour she was hosting at the XVI rooftop. I headed there after work with some coworkers. GA whisked us to over her table with bottle service and before I knew it I was drinking champagne and grey goose in broad daylight. Knowing someone who works in the nightlife business definitley has it perks. But it also exposes you to the seedy characters that are in their circles. Atl got the brunt of this, when the sleazy bar owner took a liking to her. He had a gut and whenever I looked over he had his hand on her leg or his arm around her and she looked visibily uncomfortable. Luckily he soon disappeared into the night.
I was about ready to go home at this point since it was a Thursday but when I emerged from my final bathroom trip, I found Atl surrounded by a large group of finance douches. She pulled me over and introduced me to one who had his tie tied around his head. Typical. Of course drinks were offered to us and we stayed well after our original party had left. This group of boys was mostly Canadian, including Tie Guy, who was from Montreal. I of course felt the need to keep asking him about poutine and then cracking up. They soon decided to head out to a karaoke bar, but in a well-played move, Tie Guy and his friend isolated Atl and I and ended up taking us with them to the Jane Hotel in the West Village. This is a newly popular, classy yet rowdy hotel bar. Classic finance.
Tie Guy and Atl had buddied up, but he was too drunk and goofy to be much trouble. His friend, however, was more sober so therefore more of a predator. He was putting the moves on, and since I had just taken a shot, I was soon making out with him on a couch in the bar. He invited me back with him, but my excuse for him was that I "hadn't shaved my bikini line". I don't know what possessed me to say that, and he looked surprised that I had. I decided that telling him I was going to get waxed soon would help this, even though it was completely untrue, I was just lazy as shit and hadn't felt like shaving for awhile. Classy as always. Soon after we all stumbled out of the bar, my guy still insisting and me resisting, and Tie Guy too wasted to put up a fight. So the boys went home without us that night, which was a very good thing. Atl and I hailed a cab and then realized halfway into the ride that she had lost her phone. So we turned around and headed back to the Jane Hotel, where we miraculously found her phone on the floor by our couch. The morning found us both wondering how the night had escalated so quickly.
Speaking of drunken messes, that next Saturday night followed a similar pattern. I had taken Friday night off, so my Saturday night ended up being the equivalent of two nights out. It started early--Khia had all you can eat/drink karaoke party scheduled to start 8, to celebrate his having taken the CFA exam that day. It was of course in Koreatown and he had reserved a private room for the 30+ people who were going to be attending. Once these people started to file in, the trays of sake, coronas and questionable looking sushi and tempura were brought in as well. The rotation of classic karaoke hits were played and this is how the next 2 and a half hours went--I sat next to Yahtzee and Deux and shoved California rolls into my mouth and drank sake poured into corona, since I refuse to do sake bombs. After a bit I was soon standing on the booth next to Yahtzee and Deux, all of us singing along. There was a classic picture taken of me, standing on the booth, in my cut-out dress, with my arms straight up in the air, looking like I was having the time of my life, which for privacy reasons will not be shown.When in reality I was regretting my decision to wear a midriff-baring dress to an all you can eat/drink event. Fatass. Once again, the night kept escalating--Yahtzee and I sang a duet to "Another Night" and by the end of the two hours, people were falling down in the booths and the floor was completely covered in beer and broken glass. Our private room looked like a frat house at 4AM.
Luckily our alloted time was up and most of us headed back to an after-party at some guy's apartment. Atl then joined me. She immediately waltzed into the bathroom, where she helped herself to the guy's deodorant. Once she was feeling fresh, we decided to head out, as this scene was pretty lame. We headed back around our hood, where we deemed B Bar not up to standards. We stumbled over to Bowery Hotel, where on the way we received multiple beeps. Probably because I was in a cut-out dress and she was wearing a see-through shirt. Not attire for the Bowery Hotel, but we were let in nonetheless. We paid $20 for our drinks and since there was nowhere to sit, we parked it on the piano bench in the corner of the room and surveyed. I am sure that people thought we were prostitutes. After blabbing to a Danish bouncer about Copenhagen, we left and drunkenly wandered the East Village for what seemed like forever. We could not make a decision on where to go, but luckily I received a text from Deux instructing us to head to the LES, because he was at a bar with Slonks. We trucked it all the way there and Deux was nowhere to be found. Luckily Slonks was, and he seemed very excited to see us. We caught up and had some dranks (just what we needed) and agreed we should go to another bar. Except Atl and wandered out before we decided which bar. I did not have Slonks number so we had lost him for the night. Atl called her hookup buddy, who happened to be her old boss's godson, to come meet us at La Caverna. The bouncer loved my dress and instead of stamping my hand, stamped my midriff. The three of us then ran around drinking and dancing. Atl convinced me to stand up on a table to dance, because I was wearing a cutout dress for god's sake and it needed to be seen. I was promptly told to get down by a bouncer who not impressed by my dress. And in a classic drunk people move, we all ended the night at the 24 hour diner near our apartment around 4am.
Afterward: I had felt my shoes bothering earlier in the night, but the amount that we walked and the fact that my senses were numbed led to the worst blisters I have ever received on both my big toes. That whole next week, I hobbled around in pain and was having to constantly change the bandages on my infected wounds. That is my punishment for my 8 hour bender.
I was about ready to go home at this point since it was a Thursday but when I emerged from my final bathroom trip, I found Atl surrounded by a large group of finance douches. She pulled me over and introduced me to one who had his tie tied around his head. Typical. Of course drinks were offered to us and we stayed well after our original party had left. This group of boys was mostly Canadian, including Tie Guy, who was from Montreal. I of course felt the need to keep asking him about poutine and then cracking up. They soon decided to head out to a karaoke bar, but in a well-played move, Tie Guy and his friend isolated Atl and I and ended up taking us with them to the Jane Hotel in the West Village. This is a newly popular, classy yet rowdy hotel bar. Classic finance.
Tie Guy and Atl had buddied up, but he was too drunk and goofy to be much trouble. His friend, however, was more sober so therefore more of a predator. He was putting the moves on, and since I had just taken a shot, I was soon making out with him on a couch in the bar. He invited me back with him, but my excuse for him was that I "hadn't shaved my bikini line". I don't know what possessed me to say that, and he looked surprised that I had. I decided that telling him I was going to get waxed soon would help this, even though it was completely untrue, I was just lazy as shit and hadn't felt like shaving for awhile. Classy as always. Soon after we all stumbled out of the bar, my guy still insisting and me resisting, and Tie Guy too wasted to put up a fight. So the boys went home without us that night, which was a very good thing. Atl and I hailed a cab and then realized halfway into the ride that she had lost her phone. So we turned around and headed back to the Jane Hotel, where we miraculously found her phone on the floor by our couch. The morning found us both wondering how the night had escalated so quickly.
Speaking of drunken messes, that next Saturday night followed a similar pattern. I had taken Friday night off, so my Saturday night ended up being the equivalent of two nights out. It started early--Khia had all you can eat/drink karaoke party scheduled to start 8, to celebrate his having taken the CFA exam that day. It was of course in Koreatown and he had reserved a private room for the 30+ people who were going to be attending. Once these people started to file in, the trays of sake, coronas and questionable looking sushi and tempura were brought in as well. The rotation of classic karaoke hits were played and this is how the next 2 and a half hours went--I sat next to Yahtzee and Deux and shoved California rolls into my mouth and drank sake poured into corona, since I refuse to do sake bombs. After a bit I was soon standing on the booth next to Yahtzee and Deux, all of us singing along. There was a classic picture taken of me, standing on the booth, in my cut-out dress, with my arms straight up in the air, looking like I was having the time of my life, which for privacy reasons will not be shown.When in reality I was regretting my decision to wear a midriff-baring dress to an all you can eat/drink event. Fatass. Once again, the night kept escalating--Yahtzee and I sang a duet to "Another Night" and by the end of the two hours, people were falling down in the booths and the floor was completely covered in beer and broken glass. Our private room looked like a frat house at 4AM.
Luckily our alloted time was up and most of us headed back to an after-party at some guy's apartment. Atl then joined me. She immediately waltzed into the bathroom, where she helped herself to the guy's deodorant. Once she was feeling fresh, we decided to head out, as this scene was pretty lame. We headed back around our hood, where we deemed B Bar not up to standards. We stumbled over to Bowery Hotel, where on the way we received multiple beeps. Probably because I was in a cut-out dress and she was wearing a see-through shirt. Not attire for the Bowery Hotel, but we were let in nonetheless. We paid $20 for our drinks and since there was nowhere to sit, we parked it on the piano bench in the corner of the room and surveyed. I am sure that people thought we were prostitutes. After blabbing to a Danish bouncer about Copenhagen, we left and drunkenly wandered the East Village for what seemed like forever. We could not make a decision on where to go, but luckily I received a text from Deux instructing us to head to the LES, because he was at a bar with Slonks. We trucked it all the way there and Deux was nowhere to be found. Luckily Slonks was, and he seemed very excited to see us. We caught up and had some dranks (just what we needed) and agreed we should go to another bar. Except Atl and wandered out before we decided which bar. I did not have Slonks number so we had lost him for the night. Atl called her hookup buddy, who happened to be her old boss's godson, to come meet us at La Caverna. The bouncer loved my dress and instead of stamping my hand, stamped my midriff. The three of us then ran around drinking and dancing. Atl convinced me to stand up on a table to dance, because I was wearing a cutout dress for god's sake and it needed to be seen. I was promptly told to get down by a bouncer who not impressed by my dress. And in a classic drunk people move, we all ended the night at the 24 hour diner near our apartment around 4am.
Afterward: I had felt my shoes bothering earlier in the night, but the amount that we walked and the fact that my senses were numbed led to the worst blisters I have ever received on both my big toes. That whole next week, I hobbled around in pain and was having to constantly change the bandages on my infected wounds. That is my punishment for my 8 hour bender.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Slonkeys in AC
The night of the steak dinner, Yahtzee had been talking about wanting to take a trip to Atlantic City for Memorial Day weekend, which happened to be the next day. I thought this plan overly-ambitious and didn't even consider it. But apparently my drunken agreement had struck a chord with Yahtzee and the next evening I was awakened from trying to sleep off my hangover to Yahtzee's call telling me he had booked a hotel room for the weekend. I guess AC was on.
I invited Atl to be my partner in crime, since I had no idea what kind of girls Yahtzee would drag along (turns out-none). I grabbed a few drinks with Prom and then headed to be early, since we had a 9am bus to catch. We actually made it to Port Authority on time and I wasn't in too bad of shape. The group for the weekend consisted of--myself, Atl, Yahtzee, Deux and his friend, whom we will call Slonks. I was not pleased at all that it was so early, that we were taking a bus filled with ghetto individuals and my mood grew worse when I got stuck in a seat next to Deux. We hadn't been this close to each other since he took me on that wonderful date to the 13th Step. But the awkwardness subsided when he let me read the style section of his copy of the Wall Street Journal. We chatted for quite a bit of the ride and even watched the Honey Badger video.
The trip went quickly and before I knew it we were pulling into the magical land of tacky casinos and strip clubs. I did not plan on partaking in either of these things but I was pretty pumped for some spectac people-watching. I had even brought my gold leggings for the occasion, so that I could fit in. Unfortunately AC was less tack and more....Jersey college kid. Our hotel was filled with them and considering my recent experience with the Jersey douchebag I wasn't too excited about this. And you can always count on Deux--he had booked a hotel room with only one king bed. For five people. My reaction when opening the hotel door and discovering this--"Well this isn't going to work".I forced the boys to call the front desk to wheel in two cots, one of which we had to shove in the bathroom:
This is where it stayed for the duration of our trip.
We headed down to the hotel pool to grab some lunch and some sun. We hadn't heard much from Deux's friend so far, so Atl and I decided he must be kind of a wet blanket. Boy were we wrong. This slowly became apparent when we told the boys about our name for trashy girls--swamp donkeys. How to identify a swamp donkey you ask? Some telltale signs--tramp stamps, gelled hair, visible fat rolls, etc. I was a little worried as to how the boys would take this, since we weren't exactly being nice. Fortunately they loved it, as most guys seem to. I mean they really got on board with it, even pointing out swamp donkeys in the vicinity. Slonks really took this and ran with it and shortened "swamp donkey" to "slonkey", which encompasses both sleazy and sloppy. It was perfect and by the end of lunch we were all cracking up. Another interesting fact about Slonks--he was going to be moving to Denmark soon, to be with his girlfriend. I was jealous, that he was moving to Europe and as it turned out later, that he had a girlfriend (but we'll get into that later).
After lunch we split--the boys headed to the beach and Atl and I stayed put by the pool. We met up later and did a run through of one of the casinos, which was both fascinating and depressing. I refused to waste any money gambling but the boys had a different idea. They sat down at a Blackjack table and promptly lost everything. Atl and I chuckled and decided to head back to room to get ready for the night. We had a bbq at one of Yahtzee's friends from college who lived nearby and then out at one of the clubs. The humid ocean air wasn't exactly good for my hair and when I tried to not straighten it, I ended up looking like a wild animal (perhaps a swamp donkey myself?) and Yahtzee did not hold back laughing at me. He's so sweet to me.
We took a cab to the friend's house which was about 45 minutes away. The friend was super nice and had a massive bbq spread to which I actively indulged. He also had one of the cutest dogs I have ever seen--Chewy was so sweet and had his shaggy fur trimmed short everywhere but his head. I ate, pet Chewy and socialized. After, the friend drove us back to AC in his Beamer so that we could get changed to go out. It took us about 20 minutes to fight through crowds of Jersey kids to get into the elevator and I was feeling traumatized. But I changed into my gold leggings anyway and the boys went out to buy beer. Except it was too late to buy beer so they returned with 8 bottles of cheap champagne. My mood was lifted once again, because I leeeerv champagne! We drank a bunch of it in the room and I insisted on blasting house music (we were in Jersey after all). Afrojack was playing that night but we made the decision not to go, which may have been good, but was probably bad. Instead we stayed in the hotel and went to the club there, which had a $20 cover. Atl and I were not about to pay that, but Deux and Slonks forked over their money without consulting us and were already inside. We went down to the lobby to pout and then reevaluated and went inside the club anyway, after openly bitching about the price.
The usual drunkenness ensued and by the end of the night had escalated. I had forced Deux and Slonks to take a bunch of Jager shots with me. Atl ended up shoving a guy who had skipped out on buying her a drink earlier in the night. We had somehow all gotten a hold of a light saber the dj had and were passing it around. Slonks kept poking strangers with it, with an absolutely crazed expression on his face. Deux was trying to both dance with me and hold my hand. It was madness. Luckily someone put an end to it and decided after we headed to the casino that we needed food. Atl, Yahtzee and I headed to the late-night diner within and Deux and Slonks headed off to gamble. Except what really happened was they fell asleep in the casino bar. Luckily Slonks had the foresight to set his alarm as they were drifting off, so they were awakened at 5:21AM and somehow made it back to our hotel room. Yahtzee and Atl were already passed out in the one king-sized bed so when Slonks walked in the room he literally did a dead man's fall onto the mattress from one of the cots and I covered him up with the robe. I crawled into the bed before Deux could get to me and was safe.
I woke a few hours later to a room that looked as though a booze-infused tornado had come through--there were champagne bottles and clothes thrown everywhere and the toilet was clogged. I woke Atl and we stumbled out of the room, almost stepping on Slonk's face, down to the front desk where we requested towels and took turns pooping in the public bathroom. I was still in pajamas and had makeup smeared across my face, and I'm sure I terrified some people.We returned and riled the boys up, since checkout was in less than an hour. Deux took his sweet time and manged to piss everyone off. Seriously, the dumbest smart person there is. We headed back down to the pool, where I was the designated sunscreen-rubber for all of the boys' backs. Yahtzee took a series of photos documenting this. Slonks then looked up "swamp donkey" in the Urban Dictionary and we all died at entry number 3. And it only got better. This pool had a little mini waterfall at one end. There was a slonkey-esque couple which was having their own photo shoot in the waterfall. At one point the husband sat down under the waterfall, so that it was cascading over him and I seriously almost peed my pants. Atl volunteered to take a picture of them together and this was the wonderful result:
Slonkey Alert
Not being able to take anymore, we decided to take a walk along the boardwalk, pointing out the swamp donkeys as we went. I chatted with Slonks for most of the time and had developed a little crush on him, since he was so hilarious. Atl had disappeared and when she caught back up to us she had a bag of treats from one of the shops. It contained shirts for all of us and a shot glass for Deux, since we liked him the least. My shirt said "Cool Story Bro", Atl's was a neon YOLO, Slonk's was "Go Jersey Go Hard" and finally, Yahtzee's--"I'm Sexy and I Know It", which was his favorite song and the one he liked to creepily sing to me. Except Atl had mistakenly bought him an XL and as she gave it to him called him "a fucking fatass".
We had our final lunch at a classy-looking place on the boardwalk, where we witnessed a woman french kiss her pet parrot. The squeal that escaped Deux's mouth at the sight of this was absolutely classic. We took a group shot of us in our shirts and headed off the bus station, exhausted and sunburned. We talked about slonkeys until we passed out. We parted ways in the City, but not without promising we would have an AC reunion before Slonks left in a couple weeks.....
I invited Atl to be my partner in crime, since I had no idea what kind of girls Yahtzee would drag along (turns out-none). I grabbed a few drinks with Prom and then headed to be early, since we had a 9am bus to catch. We actually made it to Port Authority on time and I wasn't in too bad of shape. The group for the weekend consisted of--myself, Atl, Yahtzee, Deux and his friend, whom we will call Slonks. I was not pleased at all that it was so early, that we were taking a bus filled with ghetto individuals and my mood grew worse when I got stuck in a seat next to Deux. We hadn't been this close to each other since he took me on that wonderful date to the 13th Step. But the awkwardness subsided when he let me read the style section of his copy of the Wall Street Journal. We chatted for quite a bit of the ride and even watched the Honey Badger video.
The trip went quickly and before I knew it we were pulling into the magical land of tacky casinos and strip clubs. I did not plan on partaking in either of these things but I was pretty pumped for some spectac people-watching. I had even brought my gold leggings for the occasion, so that I could fit in. Unfortunately AC was less tack and more....Jersey college kid. Our hotel was filled with them and considering my recent experience with the Jersey douchebag I wasn't too excited about this. And you can always count on Deux--he had booked a hotel room with only one king bed. For five people. My reaction when opening the hotel door and discovering this--"Well this isn't going to work".I forced the boys to call the front desk to wheel in two cots, one of which we had to shove in the bathroom:
We headed down to the hotel pool to grab some lunch and some sun. We hadn't heard much from Deux's friend so far, so Atl and I decided he must be kind of a wet blanket. Boy were we wrong. This slowly became apparent when we told the boys about our name for trashy girls--swamp donkeys. How to identify a swamp donkey you ask? Some telltale signs--tramp stamps, gelled hair, visible fat rolls, etc. I was a little worried as to how the boys would take this, since we weren't exactly being nice. Fortunately they loved it, as most guys seem to. I mean they really got on board with it, even pointing out swamp donkeys in the vicinity. Slonks really took this and ran with it and shortened "swamp donkey" to "slonkey", which encompasses both sleazy and sloppy. It was perfect and by the end of lunch we were all cracking up. Another interesting fact about Slonks--he was going to be moving to Denmark soon, to be with his girlfriend. I was jealous, that he was moving to Europe and as it turned out later, that he had a girlfriend (but we'll get into that later).
After lunch we split--the boys headed to the beach and Atl and I stayed put by the pool. We met up later and did a run through of one of the casinos, which was both fascinating and depressing. I refused to waste any money gambling but the boys had a different idea. They sat down at a Blackjack table and promptly lost everything. Atl and I chuckled and decided to head back to room to get ready for the night. We had a bbq at one of Yahtzee's friends from college who lived nearby and then out at one of the clubs. The humid ocean air wasn't exactly good for my hair and when I tried to not straighten it, I ended up looking like a wild animal (perhaps a swamp donkey myself?) and Yahtzee did not hold back laughing at me. He's so sweet to me.
We took a cab to the friend's house which was about 45 minutes away. The friend was super nice and had a massive bbq spread to which I actively indulged. He also had one of the cutest dogs I have ever seen--Chewy was so sweet and had his shaggy fur trimmed short everywhere but his head. I ate, pet Chewy and socialized. After, the friend drove us back to AC in his Beamer so that we could get changed to go out. It took us about 20 minutes to fight through crowds of Jersey kids to get into the elevator and I was feeling traumatized. But I changed into my gold leggings anyway and the boys went out to buy beer. Except it was too late to buy beer so they returned with 8 bottles of cheap champagne. My mood was lifted once again, because I leeeerv champagne! We drank a bunch of it in the room and I insisted on blasting house music (we were in Jersey after all). Afrojack was playing that night but we made the decision not to go, which may have been good, but was probably bad. Instead we stayed in the hotel and went to the club there, which had a $20 cover. Atl and I were not about to pay that, but Deux and Slonks forked over their money without consulting us and were already inside. We went down to the lobby to pout and then reevaluated and went inside the club anyway, after openly bitching about the price.
The usual drunkenness ensued and by the end of the night had escalated. I had forced Deux and Slonks to take a bunch of Jager shots with me. Atl ended up shoving a guy who had skipped out on buying her a drink earlier in the night. We had somehow all gotten a hold of a light saber the dj had and were passing it around. Slonks kept poking strangers with it, with an absolutely crazed expression on his face. Deux was trying to both dance with me and hold my hand. It was madness. Luckily someone put an end to it and decided after we headed to the casino that we needed food. Atl, Yahtzee and I headed to the late-night diner within and Deux and Slonks headed off to gamble. Except what really happened was they fell asleep in the casino bar. Luckily Slonks had the foresight to set his alarm as they were drifting off, so they were awakened at 5:21AM and somehow made it back to our hotel room. Yahtzee and Atl were already passed out in the one king-sized bed so when Slonks walked in the room he literally did a dead man's fall onto the mattress from one of the cots and I covered him up with the robe. I crawled into the bed before Deux could get to me and was safe.
I woke a few hours later to a room that looked as though a booze-infused tornado had come through--there were champagne bottles and clothes thrown everywhere and the toilet was clogged. I woke Atl and we stumbled out of the room, almost stepping on Slonk's face, down to the front desk where we requested towels and took turns pooping in the public bathroom. I was still in pajamas and had makeup smeared across my face, and I'm sure I terrified some people.We returned and riled the boys up, since checkout was in less than an hour. Deux took his sweet time and manged to piss everyone off. Seriously, the dumbest smart person there is. We headed back down to the pool, where I was the designated sunscreen-rubber for all of the boys' backs. Yahtzee took a series of photos documenting this. Slonks then looked up "swamp donkey" in the Urban Dictionary and we all died at entry number 3. And it only got better. This pool had a little mini waterfall at one end. There was a slonkey-esque couple which was having their own photo shoot in the waterfall. At one point the husband sat down under the waterfall, so that it was cascading over him and I seriously almost peed my pants. Atl volunteered to take a picture of them together and this was the wonderful result:
Not being able to take anymore, we decided to take a walk along the boardwalk, pointing out the swamp donkeys as we went. I chatted with Slonks for most of the time and had developed a little crush on him, since he was so hilarious. Atl had disappeared and when she caught back up to us she had a bag of treats from one of the shops. It contained shirts for all of us and a shot glass for Deux, since we liked him the least. My shirt said "Cool Story Bro", Atl's was a neon YOLO, Slonk's was "Go Jersey Go Hard" and finally, Yahtzee's--"I'm Sexy and I Know It", which was his favorite song and the one he liked to creepily sing to me. Except Atl had mistakenly bought him an XL and as she gave it to him called him "a fucking fatass".
We had our final lunch at a classy-looking place on the boardwalk, where we witnessed a woman french kiss her pet parrot. The squeal that escaped Deux's mouth at the sight of this was absolutely classic. We took a group shot of us in our shirts and headed off the bus station, exhausted and sunburned. We talked about slonkeys until we passed out. We parted ways in the City, but not without promising we would have an AC reunion before Slonks left in a couple weeks.....
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Free Steak Dinner
This ended up taking place on the last night that Jersey last cancelled on me. And thank god he did because I had a way better time than I ever would have had with him. Yahtzee had texted me earlier in the day, inviting me to his work happy hour that evening. Immediately after Jersey's cancellation I confirmed with Yahtzee that I would be accompanying him. Our offices are a couple blocks away from each other, so I met him on his corner after work. He was with a dorky Asian co-worker and it had just started to rain. I wasn't expecting much from the night, especially when we squeezed into the jam-packed C train to get to Meatpacking. Yahtzee is probably the only investment banker who will take the subway when he can obviously afford a cab.
When we emerged from the subway the rain had turned into a torrential downpour and none of us had an umbrella. We waited under an awning of a building with about 35 other people but it showed no signs of letting up. We were starting to get discouraged when Yahtzee got a text from one of his other coworkers, who turned out to be right around the corner from us in a car. It was like a scene from a movie--within seconds a towncar pulled up and the three of us hopped in. The guy was waiting for us in the backseat and thanked his driver for picking us up. He was a bit older, in his 30s at least turned out to be married with kids and living in Jersey. The other coworker who met us was the same deal, but they both joked around like frat guys and I kind of loved it. The happy hour was being held at Catch, which GF had been wanting to go to for ages. It was quite the scene and loaded with dudes in suits. I was one of the only girls present and I felt eyes on me as I walked in. We all stood at the bar chatting. Yahtzee's old boss showed up and it was just me and the boys drinking. I was having drinks handed to me and I was pretty happy about the whole situation, except for the fact that Yahztee was basically insinuating that we had hooked up in Croatia when asked how the two us had met. I guess the reason for my invite was to be his faux-date for the night.
I was planning to leave after drinks to meet up with Atl for one of GA's events. But then one of the coworkers mentioned grabbing dinner around the corner at STK, which is a fancy steak place. I was overjoyed and sent Atl the following text: "free steak dinner. boom. I'm out", which she apparently loved. The restaurant was very crowded but when we walked in we were led to a huge table in the corner, even though there were only 6 of us. This turned out to be one of the most ridiculous dinners I have ever had. They ordered every appetizer on the menu just to start. Then onto steak and then dessert, and all the while the wine was flowing. They ordered at least 10 bottles and at one point I had four glasses in front of my plate, all for me. Yahtzee's old boss was sitting across from me who at one point informed me that the wine I was drinking was "very, very good wine", while staring at me intently. As creepy as this sounds I had spoken to him earlier in the night and he was very nice. He was in his fifties and bald but I deemed him cool when he told me that although Yahtzee is smart, he is a complete airhead, which is totally true. He was of course well-traveled and I'm happy with any excuse to talk about Europe. He also seemed pleased when I knew basic information about finance, which even an idiot would know. And here is the best--he had a teenage daughter and for her upcoming 16th birthday was taking her and 10 of her friends to the South of France for a week. After telling us this, Yahtzee's reaction was "Uh for my 16th birthday I went bowling" which was just perfect.
Throughout the excessive dinner, which lasted about 3 hours, I made my rounds with the guys. I discussed with the guy who had picked us up in the Towncar how he had met his wife. I also made conversation with an Irish coworker who had joined the dinner late, and who turned out to be good friends with Hot Irish (my 1 Oak makeout). And I totally took advantage of the free food, eating all of my steak and half of Yahtzee's. Such a lady. I have no idea how much the bill was at the end of the night but I'm willing to bet it was at least a couple thousand dollars. Why thank you, unnamed investment bank, for that amazing "business dinner".
When we finally got up from the table, we all headed straight for the bar, where another few free drinks were handed to me. I ended up sitting with the Old Boss and he talked to me about his daughter and the little dog he had bought for her, which he of course takes care of. For some reason when he showed me pictures of her I decided to say that she looked like "she has a good head on her shoulders". I'm not sure what possessed me to say this, as she looked like a little slut in a zebra dress, but it was obviously the right thing for him. He was my number one fan--telling me that he wanted his daughter to turn out like me and telling Yahtzee that he would be lucky to find a girl like me. If only more guys shared this sentiment, especially ones who aren't old enough to be my father.
The night had flown by and when I checked the time to see if I still had time to make the party with Atl and GA I saw that it was after midnight. Yahtzee and I had had no idea it was so late and decided we needed to leave. Someone called us a car and again, within seconds, a towncar appeared outside for us. The Old Boss decided he would leave with us as well. Yahtzee's apartment turned out to be the first stop and then I was alone and drunk with the Old Boss in the backseat. I was slightly concerned that he may try and pull something but of course he did not. Outside my apartment he said he hoped that he would see me again and I lied and said I was sure he would. I hugged him and exited the car quickly, feeling weird that I was not totally put off by someone who was a huge nerd and had a daughter was who is only a few years younger than me. If it ever came down to it though, I don't think I could pull a golddigger move.
When I entered my apartment I had missed calls from Yahtzee who asked me if I made it home safely. What a good date. I confirmed and went to bed, unknowing that I was going to have my most hungover day at work to date the next day. All worth it though for free steak.
When we emerged from the subway the rain had turned into a torrential downpour and none of us had an umbrella. We waited under an awning of a building with about 35 other people but it showed no signs of letting up. We were starting to get discouraged when Yahtzee got a text from one of his other coworkers, who turned out to be right around the corner from us in a car. It was like a scene from a movie--within seconds a towncar pulled up and the three of us hopped in. The guy was waiting for us in the backseat and thanked his driver for picking us up. He was a bit older, in his 30s at least turned out to be married with kids and living in Jersey. The other coworker who met us was the same deal, but they both joked around like frat guys and I kind of loved it. The happy hour was being held at Catch, which GF had been wanting to go to for ages. It was quite the scene and loaded with dudes in suits. I was one of the only girls present and I felt eyes on me as I walked in. We all stood at the bar chatting. Yahtzee's old boss showed up and it was just me and the boys drinking. I was having drinks handed to me and I was pretty happy about the whole situation, except for the fact that Yahztee was basically insinuating that we had hooked up in Croatia when asked how the two us had met. I guess the reason for my invite was to be his faux-date for the night.
I was planning to leave after drinks to meet up with Atl for one of GA's events. But then one of the coworkers mentioned grabbing dinner around the corner at STK, which is a fancy steak place. I was overjoyed and sent Atl the following text: "free steak dinner. boom. I'm out", which she apparently loved. The restaurant was very crowded but when we walked in we were led to a huge table in the corner, even though there were only 6 of us. This turned out to be one of the most ridiculous dinners I have ever had. They ordered every appetizer on the menu just to start. Then onto steak and then dessert, and all the while the wine was flowing. They ordered at least 10 bottles and at one point I had four glasses in front of my plate, all for me. Yahtzee's old boss was sitting across from me who at one point informed me that the wine I was drinking was "very, very good wine", while staring at me intently. As creepy as this sounds I had spoken to him earlier in the night and he was very nice. He was in his fifties and bald but I deemed him cool when he told me that although Yahtzee is smart, he is a complete airhead, which is totally true. He was of course well-traveled and I'm happy with any excuse to talk about Europe. He also seemed pleased when I knew basic information about finance, which even an idiot would know. And here is the best--he had a teenage daughter and for her upcoming 16th birthday was taking her and 10 of her friends to the South of France for a week. After telling us this, Yahtzee's reaction was "Uh for my 16th birthday I went bowling" which was just perfect.
Throughout the excessive dinner, which lasted about 3 hours, I made my rounds with the guys. I discussed with the guy who had picked us up in the Towncar how he had met his wife. I also made conversation with an Irish coworker who had joined the dinner late, and who turned out to be good friends with Hot Irish (my 1 Oak makeout). And I totally took advantage of the free food, eating all of my steak and half of Yahtzee's. Such a lady. I have no idea how much the bill was at the end of the night but I'm willing to bet it was at least a couple thousand dollars. Why thank you, unnamed investment bank, for that amazing "business dinner".
When we finally got up from the table, we all headed straight for the bar, where another few free drinks were handed to me. I ended up sitting with the Old Boss and he talked to me about his daughter and the little dog he had bought for her, which he of course takes care of. For some reason when he showed me pictures of her I decided to say that she looked like "she has a good head on her shoulders". I'm not sure what possessed me to say this, as she looked like a little slut in a zebra dress, but it was obviously the right thing for him. He was my number one fan--telling me that he wanted his daughter to turn out like me and telling Yahtzee that he would be lucky to find a girl like me. If only more guys shared this sentiment, especially ones who aren't old enough to be my father.
The night had flown by and when I checked the time to see if I still had time to make the party with Atl and GA I saw that it was after midnight. Yahtzee and I had had no idea it was so late and decided we needed to leave. Someone called us a car and again, within seconds, a towncar appeared outside for us. The Old Boss decided he would leave with us as well. Yahtzee's apartment turned out to be the first stop and then I was alone and drunk with the Old Boss in the backseat. I was slightly concerned that he may try and pull something but of course he did not. Outside my apartment he said he hoped that he would see me again and I lied and said I was sure he would. I hugged him and exited the car quickly, feeling weird that I was not totally put off by someone who was a huge nerd and had a daughter was who is only a few years younger than me. If it ever came down to it though, I don't think I could pull a golddigger move.
When I entered my apartment I had missed calls from Yahtzee who asked me if I made it home safely. What a good date. I confirmed and went to bed, unknowing that I was going to have my most hungover day at work to date the next day. All worth it though for free steak.
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