Birthday and Barfing

These are separate incidents unfortunately, but that would have made for an epic night in New York. Now due to that bitch Hurricane Sandy, I delayed my birthday a couple of weeks to let everyone regroup. Power was fully restored within the City and all the subways were back in action. And all the while, Guy Work Friend and I had been conspiring to create an amazing joint party. It took us awhile to decide on a venue but finally we agreed that the Roach Bar would have everything we needed--cheap liquor and no pressure. We made a facebook event, invited all our friends and I even ordered a cas dress from Rent the Runway.

The night arrived and a group of us walked to Roach Bar and discovered a huge line outside with a bouncer. WTF. This was exactly what we wanted to avoid and we figured choosing a dive bar in the middle of Chinatown would do the trick. Not so. Touche New York. We regrouped and walked into the Lower East Side, which is another place I wanted to avoid on my birthday. We chose probably the chillest bar we could to avoid the LES crowds, grabbed a table in the corner and a party we made. Our friends arrived, we drank and it turned out to be pretty good. Pubs was there of course, and our secret romance was still secret to our coworkers. Because of this, and my drunkness and excitement from having visitors, I ended up ignoring him a little bit, though I did not mean to. Atl later informed me that he seemed to be off to the side, looking sad, for most of the party. Oops. I was busy tending to my guests, including High School, who arrived towards the end of the night, once we had all relocated to La Caverna next door (a crazy underground dance bar that looks like a cave). Pubs won out though and I of course chose to take him home with me, as was becoming standard at this point. After some late night burgers and a little bit of my drunken attitude, I bid my 26th year goodbye.

 I was not leaving my old ways behind though, not just yet. The next weekend, Atl's friend, Charlotte, was in town, and there tended to be heavy drinking involved when she was around. We tried to keep it classy when the three of us headed to dinner in the West Village. We drank wine, ate our delish food, but soon grew antsy. These classy people weren't talking to us and we were getting bored. We needed something more. This came in the form of an invitation to a bar in Midtown, courtesy of one of Charlotte's bro coworkers. He was with a bunch of bro friends and this sounded perfect. So after some more wine we hopped in a cab and were on our way.

Upon arrival, we were disappointed in both the bar and the bros. We weren't expecting much from the bar, but the bros were not only ugly, but were also lame. So obviously we would need to drink more to get through this--that was the mature thing to do. Once I took a shot of well vodka, I had sealed my fate. I began conversing with one of the ugly bros and of course gave him my number when he asked. BUT--maybe times had changed. I had made arrangements with Pubs to meet up at some point in the night. Of course by this point he was already home, but I still wanted to see him. I told ugly bro to get me a cab. He may or may not have thought this cab was for us, but I informed him I was heading off to see someone in Astoria, leaving him annoyed on the curb as the cab pulled away. Once at Pubs' apartment, I apparently knocked him to the ground and then lay there with him for about 20 minutes just rambling. I then crawled into his bed and fell asleep fully-clothed.

I woke up  in the morning and was all set to go to brunch. I sat up and immediately laid back down. There was no way I was going anywhere, including on the party bus to Medieval Times, which I had told Guy Work Friend I would do later that night. This was the most crippling hangover I had had in months. I ended up spending the day curled up in a greasy ball on Pubs' couch. I would occasionally crawl to the bathroom to barf, impressing him immensely. He was sympathetic and told me I was welcome to stay. He even went out and bought me a care package, which consisted of ginger ale, crackers and tampons. Because of his kindness, I stayed the next night, and he didn't even seem to mind. I felt like a complete waste of life the next day though, when we actually made it to brunch and I was wearing my going out clothes from Friday night. My abs may have looked great from the puking but I myself looked like a deranged hooker. And he still paid. What a sweetie. As for me--time to grow up!

Hurricane Sandy-- You Stupid Slut

So like I was saying, it turns out that the storm was a bigger deal than I thought. I was expecting a free day from work and going drinking in the rain. What I got was much different. It started out uneventful--Atl and I were stuck in the neighborhood since the subways and buses weren't running, but to our surprise not much was open. We went to brunch on that Monday and spent the rest of the day lazing around the apartment. Shortly after brunch it had started to rain and it had been pretty windy since the day before. That evening it was getting progressively worse and this is when we both started receiving calls from our parents checking in. SA made her over since she lived in the neighborhood and her roommates were gone. After eating most of the perishable items in our fridge, we settled in to watch late 90's teen movies on netflix. At this point, the rain was pounding against our windows and the wind was gusting so hard that the powder from our brick walls was blowing into the apartment. We sat nervously through Drive Me Crazy and at the start of She's All That, the lights started to flicker. Shit,we were actually going to lose power. I sent out a few last minute texts and kept my fingers crossed that maybe it wouldn't happen. We didn't get halfway through the movie when there was a loud, hollow noise outside and everything went black with a sick buzz. We lit some candles and the three of us sat there in the dark, not knowing what to do. There was not a light on for as far as we could see and the wind was still blowing the rain around in massive gusts. We hoped the power would be back after an hour or two and when that didn't happen we went to bed.

It still wasn't back on in the morning. We were all stir crazy by then so we decided to walk to a bar or restaurant with a generator. We put on our rain gear (I wore sneakers) and headed out. Walking north on Avenue C, there was debris and wet leaves everywhere and a woman was on the corner crying. People were pumping water from the basements of the buildings and there was soaked food littering the floor of the supermarket. Cars were being cleaned out--the flooding was so bad that many of them were completely submerged. We are live on the southern end of Ave C, which miraculously received almost no flooding. But up further it was obviously not so good and I was glad to walk on. We cut west at 14th st and there was still not a place with lights. We overheard conversations that there was no power until 40th st and that we wouldn't have it back for 2 or 3 more days.

This was getting bleak but we didn't know what else to do, so we walked. We followed the masses of people doing the same as us. It was a mass exodus towards the lights. We walked through the East Village, into Gramercy, through Murray Hill, and into Midtown. The rumors had been correct--it wasn't until the 40's that we started seeing lights. Every single establishment was packed. People were crowding bank lobbies to charge their phones. The shelves at every store were completely empty. We went into at least 10 bars and restaurants looking for a table, where we could just sit and be warm, but every place was completely full. So we kept walking north. It was finally around 55th st that we were able to push our way into a Johnny Rockets. We sat dejectedly for a couple of hours while our phones charged and we ate soggy french fries. We then walked over to GA's apartment for hot showers then trudged back down 60 blocks before it got too dark out.

Atl and I were going to try and stick it out in our apartment but after one more night in the darkness and cold, we couldn't take it anymore. We packed our bags for the morning and starting asking around within our various friends who didn't lose power. Pubs had offered up his apartment in Astoria more than once but I wasn't sure if it would look to desperate to accept. But it made the most sense, since we  both had to work the next day and I could then have a partner in crime to fight for a cab, since subways still weren't running. So I ended up accepting, even though I had yet to go to his place. I hoped it wouldn't be too awkward. I had a surprisingly easy commute the next morning--only 2 buses. About 4 people showed up at my office, including Pubs, who had to walk across the Queensboro bridge into Midtown. After work we paid a gypsy cab $50 to take us to Queens, where it actually was not awkward despite him having 2 friends staying in the living room for a night. I ended up staying 4 nights, since his subway line resumed service the next day. Plus he had a new adorable orange kitten named Franklin that I loved playing with.

During my stay Pubs was extremely welcoming and I was really glad to be hanging out with him. I ended up returning to Ave C Saturday evening when our power was back. I had left Wednesday morning and our power had been out since Monday--almost 5 days. Obviously many people had it way worse than I did but still legit. Once we were reunited back on C, how did we celebrate? By going out of course. Most of the bars and restaurants were open again, though not all. We had dinner then I met Guy Work Friend and his friends at DBA. We spent most of the night freaking out over a candle on the bar which had a religious skeleton that we nicknamed "Zombie Jesus" and then one of the friends accidentally spilled candle wax all over my leg.

And we were back, ladies and gentlemen. Sandy can't hold us down!

Halloween Was Ruined.....By Sandy!

Based on the title, my documentation is not going to be the poignant, heartbreaking experience that some people had during Hurricane Sandy. But it was certainly a memorable experience for me and definitely not something I would like to go through again. And really if something like that does happen again--New York is fucked.

So in typical first-world fashion, I paid no heed to the warnings about Sandy. I was too busy prepping my costume for the Halloween parties I was to be attending that night. After a trip to American Apparel with the Pubs, it was finally ready--80's tennis player, complete with scrunchy, sweatband,  and retro tennis dress. I even had a racket case to carry around as my purse. It was no White Swan, but it still looked pretty awesome. Guy Work Friend met me at my apartment, as well as JM with some weird dude she had met following her around with puppy dog eyes. Luckily he was not coming with us to the party we would be attending.

Now the Pubs and I had been seeing each other more and more since the kiss outside my apartment door. We were hanging out at least a couple of times a week and I had invited him to attend the party, which was in my old stomping grounds, the Shwick. I was a bit nervous about this though, since no one at work knew about our romance.I hadn't even told Guy Work Friend and he was going to be hanging out with us, drunk, the whole night. I guess I overlooked the fact that GWF would be as drunk as us so he was none the wiser. Plus we were all pretty distracted by how shitty this party actually was. It was a giant rave at an old warehouse off the Morgan Ave stop. I guess it's fitting that I always end up at warehouses on Halloween. Me and the rest of Brooklyn--the line at the entrance was huge and once inside it was jam packed. We lost everyone else we were with almost immediately and I was pretty certain that moving through the stairwells was going to turn into version 2 of the trampling at the Love Parade. Every floor was so crowded we could barely make it to the dancefloor and once there could only stand it for just a few minutes. Getting to the bar was bad and forget the bathroom line. The outdoor space wasn't much better and I was pretty disappointed that we wouldn't be able to jump on the giant trampoline.

I'm not sure how long we stayed but the three of us reached our breaking point at the same time and Irish exited. On the way back to the Morgan Ave subway stop Pubs bounded all over the place in his costume (the boyscout from Moonrise Kingdom). But I was busy having a drunken yelling fit at some idiot kids who had been at the stupid rave with us, which I'm sure really impressed Pubs. He still agreed to go back to Ave C with me and we tried to play it cool in front of Work Guy Friend as we got off at the same stop together. And that was my Halloween ladies and gents. It's my own fault for agreeing to go to a rave in the Shwick.

But at least this year it wasn't me going to brunch in my Halloween costume--poor Pubs is the one who had to sit through brunch with me, Atl and her friend SA, wearing a boyscout uniform. On the way we noticed that the neighborhood was much quieter than normal for a Sunday morning. While eating we saw the announcement that the subway was shutting down that night. Not long after we all started getting emails that work would be closed the next day. I still thought that everyone was overreacting like they did during Irene but I was a little surprised that water was completely sold out at both the grocery store and Duane Reade. Not knowing what else to get, I grabbed a couple packs of trail mix and headed to the bodega where I paid $20 for 2 liters of water. I didn't actually think we would lose power. I thought this would be over the next day and was pissed at myself for leaving my rain boots at work. I was going to need those rainboots to go to the bar during the supposed "storm", which was my plan. This plan would be ruined as well. To be continued....

Pooper Rico Part 2

The next morning my stomach felt a little better, which was good since we were setting out early to go to our own private beach in Luquillo. Outside of the beaches are famous Puerto Rican food stands so of course we started our day with an authentic pina coloda before locating our beach. This proved a bit more difficult than we thought, since it was a nice day and the beaches were filled up. We ended up having to walk a ways, and one point were wading knee deep through the ocean. We eventually found our spot, which was off the beaten path and pretty far from a public restroom. But it was all ours and there was not a person in sight. We settled into our mini paradise and passed an hour or so sleeping and swimming. My stomach was getting progressively worse though and I was starting to panic. What the hell was I going to do?? The boys went for a walk and the churning grew unbearable. I knew I had to use this opportunity to take action. I could go in the water but since it was clear blue I figured that wasn't a good idea. So this being one of the lowest points of my life, I ordered Atl to keep watch while I dug a little hole for myself in the sand. I squatted over it and quickly took care of business, praying that no one would suddenly appear. I thank the good lord every day that I thought to grab some napkins at the food stands and then frantically threw sand to cover the hole. I ran into the water almost crying--half from relief and half from disgust with myself. Atl did not share the sentiment and was dying laughing at me. The boys emerged a few minutes later and found the two of us back on our towels, like nothing had ever happened. To this day they are none the wiser.

The scene of the dirty, dirty crime
The remainder of the afternoon was uneventful and when it started to get dark, we packed up to go. We set off on our walk and as soon as we started moving, my bowels did as well. I led the way as quickly as I could, knowing I needed to get to those public bathrooms asap. But the boys were stopping to take pictures of the sunset and I could not bear it any longer. I took off running to the bathrooms only to find them locked. At this point I was almost in tears and my secret was out. The boys knew what was up and immediately Politician Bro began to make fun of me, asking about my trip to "Pooper Rico". The only other option was going back to the food stands outside of the parking lot and I burst out of the car as soon as it stopped, like a bat out of hell. I ran into the first stand but the ladies room was occupied. I pounded on the door and a few unbearable minutes later an angry Puerto Rican lady emerged. I barreled past her and least had the luxury of being able to use a toilet this time.

Sidenote: For anyone traveling to Puerto Rico, PACK IMODIUM!

The boys wanted to explore the food stands but after my humiliating afternoon, I would do no such thing. I sat miserably on a bench until they were finished, with Atl keeping me company. On the ride back to San Juan, we stopped to pick me up gatorade and imodium, along with liquor and frozen pizzas, which I was actually able to enjoy without a problem later that evening. My health was back just in time because this was our big night out on the town. We opted to stay in Old San Juan and check out the bar scene there instead of going to the clubs by all the hotels. I was just excited to put on a summer dress and after pregaming for awhile, we headed out.

 It was a whirlwind tour, starting at the bar we had gone to the other night, another bar that looked like a cave, a club with a french dj playing with a $30 cover which we almost went to then did not, and then back to the first bar. It had become packed and people were spilling out onto the sidewalks and into the courtyard next door. I was excited to drink outside and some of Politician Bro's local friends were there. I thought one was pretty attractive but after my day of dehyrdration I wasn't exacty able to carry on a coherant conversation. I did however manage to talk to pretty much every guy in the bathroom line, which is where I spent a majority of my evening (just for peeing, luckily!). Finally Politician Bro decided that we should all go home, and I whined the entire way that it was early and we should stay out longer.

We certainly should not have, as we were all hungover as shit the next morning. It was another early one, since we were driving all the way across the landmass of Puerto Rico to get to Playa Sucia, one of the best beaches. I think all of us could've done without the drive and somewhere close to our destination we all decided we were feeling better enough to eat. My stomach was cured and I was ready to try some Puerto Rican cuisine, especially mofongo. The town we stopped in was eerily deserted and there wasn't another one for miles around. It looked like it was straight out of the 1950's and I felt like we were in the Rum Diaries. As I stepped out of the car into the hot sun, I was very aware of the outfit I had chosen that morning--70's style bright blue hot shorts from American Apparel and a neon green crop top. The Loveable Nerd nicknamed this my "beach costume".

There seemed to be about 3 food places in the entire town, but the only one that was open was the Chinese one. Not the best place to try mofongo but they had it and I ordered it. It tasted like chicken soup paste and Loveable Nerd couldn't even finish his. So there we were--the 4 of us, hungover, me dressed like an idiot, all of us laughing deliriously about god knows what, sitting in a Chinese restuarant in a random Puerto Rican town. Just an average day.

We finally made it to Playa Sucia and after exploring the cliffs and the lighthouse, headed down to the white sand beach, where we were the only tourists.




We spent a relaxing afternoon and were prepared to spend the evening, but this plan was foiled as soon as the sun started to go down. Little tiny bugs emerged from the sand and started to bite the hell out of all of us. We tried to take it, but ended up running for the car as quickly as possible. Nice beach day over. Not wanting to cut our time short, Politician Bro decided we were going to head to the surfing town of Rincon, which was on our way home. Once there, we pretended to be guests of one of the hotels so that we could use their pool, which had a swim-up bar. Of course there was a Puerto Rican wedding going on which we had to walk through awkwardly to get there (note I was still wearing my beach costume). At the bar, there was a man playing a guitar at an unbearable decibel but that didn't stop me from enjoying a delicious steak and a beer. Properly satiated, I started to fall asleep on the car ride home.

This did not last for long, as I woke up to us being stuck in the middle of a political rally. Puerto Rican elections were a couple weeks away, and PRs celebrated this event by parking their cars in the middle of the road, while blasting the radio, beeping the horn and waving flags. Of course, why wouldn't they? We were stuck in this shenanigan for over an hour, while Politician Bro screamed out the window that they would never get statehood and I feared for my life. We were finally able to get through when he told a cop that his wife aka Atl, was sick in the backseat. We resumed the drive, and I quickly fell back asleep to the lull of Politician Bro's story-telling.

We spent our final hours in Puerto Rico the next day back at the beach, this time at a local one in San Juan. It was just as nice as the others we had seen, even if it was a bit more developed. We then had a nice seafood dinner and a send off Pina Colada before Atl and I headed back to New York. We did achieve our goal of getting tan as shit and I got to shit outdoors, for the first and hopefully last time in my life.

Pooper Rico Part 1

Since my vacas over the summer weren’t exactly tropical beach destinations (San Fran, Mexico City), I definitely accepted an invitation from my old friend Politician Bro to come stay with him in Puerto Rico. He had recently moved there for a job clerking for one of the federal courts and I knew he would have a baller setup. I recruited Atl to come along and before we knew it, we were on a flight to San Juan, with a bunch of loud ass PR’s and cable tv (thanks Jetblue). Politician Bro picked us up upon our arrival with his friend Loveable Nerd in tow. Politician Bro had described him by saying that we “wouldn’t want to take his clothes off”. He was correct. Despite getting his phd at Harvard, Loveable Nerd was about 5’1, with Tevas and transitions lenses. But looks can be deceiving as SM turned out to be cool as shit. Once stowed in the car, Politician Bro’s nonstop talking began and didn’t stop til two days later, after he was able to “relieve” some stress. Atl and I were half asleep and were barely listening to the chatter. But seeing Politician Bro’s apartment in Old San Juan woke us up. It was on a cobble stone street with brightly colored houses, with its own balcony.

 

 

 Inside the apartment were high ceilings and modern furniture. The place was nice and within walking distance to the historic fort and the best bar in Old San Juan. Of course we headed straight there, the two blonde gringas attracted some attention on the way. This bar was filled with Puerto Rican hipsters, which was strange to see, and Politician Bro knew all of the bartenders. Now Atl and I have a habit of getting pretty wasted when we go out together. Luckily, after a long day and a long flight, this was not going to be one of those nights. After one beer and a free shot from a local New York City enthusiast, we headed back to Casa de Politician Bro to promptly pass out.

The next morning, I woke from a deep sleep to find the apartment empty. Politician Bro had to go to work and Loveable Nerd and Atl left me a note saying they were up by the fort at the local gourmet waffle place. I found my way there was unimpressed with the overcast weather. Luckily gourmet waffles were delish and walking around the Old town was much nicer than walking around Avenue C. Politician Bro managed to dip out of work for the afternoon, which was around the same time we finished exploring the fort and I finished chasing after every stray cat I saw. We hopped back in the car, to head out of San Juan to the rainforest. We obviously got lost on the way there and in true American fashion, none of us spoke the local language. We pulled off into a small town that looked shadier and shadier as we drove through. It was basically deserted, and made us nervous, since in his ramblings, Politician Bro had told us that PR was known for its violence. We then turned down one street to find a dead dog in the middle of the road. We took this as a bad omen and immediately back-tracked out of there.  Politician Bro asked the scariest looking guys in front of a gas station for directions, who turned out to be really friendly and told us where to go in perfect English.

We finally made it into the national park we were seeking, so that we could hike up to the waterfall. My stomach had been feeling slightly churney since we arrived and the road up to the parking lot weaved and turned through the mountains. Politician Bro was taking them at a high speed and blasting Ke$ha. I sat in the backseat, green as can be, with the chorus “We’re gonna die young” blasting in my head. Indeed. We parked without me puking and I followed behind them all shakily as we started on the trail. Luckily it wasn’t too strenuous, as I am not really an outdoorsy girl. We arrived at the waterfall and I was surprised that people were actually swimming in the water beneath it.

 

 

This looked a bit dangerous to me, but I gingerly entered the water at Politician Bro’s urging, and almost hyperventilated from the cold. He went directly for the churning waters beneath the fall and swam under. He motioned for us to join but I was not interested and neither was Atl. He kept calling out what became the token line of the trip “You won’t get hurt!”. His hero cry convinced Loveable Nerd and some teenage girls to go under with him, but Atl and I held back. We took a photo shoot in front of the falls and then I smashed my leg on one of the slippery rocks. I was ready to head back and luckily it was starting to get dark so the boys had no choice.

We walked back in our soaking wet clothes and headed out of the park to a local German restaurant at the bottom of the mountains. Yes, that’s right, a German restaurant. In Puerto Rico. What the hell. The place was pretty much empty but we sat on the patio with our German cuisine and beer, watching the creepy Austrian owner intently staring at the two young German waitresses. Eventually a German band came out of nowhere and the girls were forced to traditionally dance, while the man salivated over them.

Meanwhile we kept drinking our beers and strategizing how we could get to the Bioluminscent Bay. This was a place a little to the South of us, where the algae in the bay lit up the water at night. There were kayaking treks you could go on to the middle of the bay, but they were all booked up. We were debating if we could find a place to go swimming in the water and after we finished our German meal, we set out to find out, picking up more beer at an authentic bodega along the way. The entrance to the bay turned out to be a park with a carnival and bands playing, with no one swimming in the water and signs warning us not to. But Politician Bro being Politician Bro, managed to convince one of the kayaking companies to let us join last minute. My stomach had starting churning even more and I was not feeling great, but before I could argue, I was strapping on a smelly lifevest and stepping into a kayak. We were part of a large group of Spanish-speaking people and were the only ones that didn’t. The guide assigned to us, the gringos, didn’t seem too pleased about it, but he was extremely attractive so I forgave him any bad attitude. Unfortunately, my stomach was grumbling even more and I was desperately hoping I could avoid being sick until we were out of the kayaks. This did not make for a very pleasant expedition into the bay for me. I was sharing a kayak with Politician Bro who would stop paddling without me knowing, and I was shit at steering the thing. Under normal circumstances I am decent at kayaking but this was far from normal. We were going through a narrow channel with huge tree branches hanging down on both sides, packed tightly into a group of screaming PR’s. It was pitch black except for one tiny light on the front of each boat. We were constantly smashing into other boats or the giant tree roots and I was close to pooping my pants. When we finally made it out into the channel, I was about to jump out of the boat to take care of business, but swimming was strictly forbidden and our hot guide was watching our unruly group closely. It is unfortunate that due to my condition I wasn’t able to truly enjoy what I was seeing—a giant bay of still, sparkling water, illuminated even more every time a paddle touched it. It was really pretty awesome.

I somehow made it back through the channel and onto dry land. Once my lifevest was removed I took off running towards the bathroom, which was pretty much the equivalent to an outhouse. It was an unpleasant experience to say the least. Afterwards, I staggered over to my friends, who were relaxing on the rocks next to the water, drinking beer and taking in the scenery. I sat next to them, feeling like I was going to faint and praying nobody asked me any questions about where I disappeared to. We headed back to San Juan soon after, with Politician Bro rambling the entire way. Atl and I could barely stand it but what could we say when he was letting us stay in his nice apartment for free? To be continued….

He Pooped in My Bathroom

This particular night ended up going in a completely different direction than I had ever anticipated. It started out innocently enough--JM was having her birthday party at some bars in the Lower East Side. She was going to dinner at Spitzer's first, but I was tired and wanted to go home and nap. The night before was spent out with the Pubs, at dinner then seeing another dj at Ludlow Manor. And by seeing I mean making out in a chair next to the rooftop pool (a photog snapped a pic of us, which I have yet to track down). So after I was rested and ready to head out, I met GF and his new roommate at the Back Room until JM was finished with dinner. The Back Room is still filled with as many European tourists as it was over the summer with Little Aussie. We drank our booze-filled teacups and then checked to see where JM was. The answer was not good--Fat Baby. A notoriously B&T club with obnoxious music. How the hell she ended up there, I'm not really sure. But it was her birthday and we had to go. The scene inside was pretty bad, though not as bad as it could have been since it was still early. There was no line to get inside but there was wait to get to the section where JM's party was, since it was being blocked off. We waited for awhile and I grew grumpier. Once we were allowed in and tracked down a waitress to take our drink order (since we couldn't get back to the bar), half of JM's party decided they were going to leave. I was beyond annoyed since we had just fought to get there, and without even meaning to said "fine, go wherever, we will just fucking meet you after" in the bitchiest voice, complete with an eye roll and a little hand wave. Everyone looked at me in surprise and I didn't realize how bad it sounded until I saw GF cringing. Oops. This obviously did not stop people from leaving, but since there were now fewer of us, we were able to work our way to the bottom floor, which had basically no one there. With easy access to the bar, things escalated fairly quickly. My bitchy outburst had sobered me though and I pretty much stayed that way.

Now here is where the night begins to take an interesting twist. I had received texts from both Yahtzee and Slonks, inviting me out to their friend's b-day party at a bar in the East Village. It took me a bit to put two and two together but I figured out that it was for Deux's Rapey Friend. I hadn't seen him since that night and I knew I was bound to run into him sooner or later. I was interested to see if this situation would Slonks would go anywhere, after our post-Atlantic City/pre-Europe psuedo encounter. So I figured I may as well go big or  go home and I decided to make an appearance at the b-day party. Both Yahtzee and Slonks had made this bar sound exclusive, so I was worried about two of the people in JM's party--her wasted friend and her gangster looking date. They could not be entering with us, so like the bitch I can be, I corralled GF and his roommate into a cab yelling at JM and co to follow behind us. No need, since this "exclusive party"turned out to be located at in the bottom floor of an Eastern European restaurant. There were about 15 nerds standing around, most of whom left not long after I got there, including a very drunk Deux and his date. Rapey Friend was also there with his new girl, who looked on as he gave me a hug and said he was glad to see me. Yea, yea, take me to Slonks please. Slonks was pretty drunk, but what else is new and he still seemed pleased to see me. Luckily JM and her party found the place and joined us. Rapey Friend hit on her as he was leaving with his girlfriend and I chuckled to myself. Yahtzee and I of course recounted the Croatia story for everyone who was still present, before I turned my full attention to Slonks. We ended up closing out the bar with JM and her date before emerging out into the night. The plan was to go to another bar but JM decided to head home and left alone with Slonks, I realized how drunk he actually was. I decided pizza was a better option, so we went to the place near my apartment since we were close by. He shoved his face with pizza like a slob and I was not impressed. But he was wasted and subletting all the way out in my old neighborhood in the Shwick, so I felt bad sending him all the way back there. I decided he could just stay over but nothing would be happening between us.
This decision was solidified after he emerged from my bathroom. I walked towards it, since I had forgotten to take my make up off and I heard him say "why are you going there??" in a panicy voice. It was then that I smelled it. A whiff of something foul. He had pooped in my bathroom. Pooped in my bathroom?!! I was immediately disgusted and couldn't even look at him. I went straight to my bed and rolled to the very edge to face the wall. I woke up a few hours later, turned and opened one eye to see Slonks next to me. He was wearing all of his clothes, including his jacket, and was under all the covers. A couple minutes later I heard him wake with a start, hesitate, get up quickly and run out of my apartment. Satisfied  I rolled over and went back to sleep.
I recounted the story the next night at dinner. MM was in town with her friend and Atl had gone with me to meet them at what turned out to be the worst sushi restaurant I've ever been to. We had a good laugh over that story though and my interest in Slonks had been eliminated. I then took MM and her friend out on the town, but was tired and just couldn't get my head in the game. Luckily the three of us had some good convos and a lot of fun making fun at MM's houndstooth-printed pants. But I ended my weekend where it began--at some shitty bars in the Lower East Side.

It's Not For Everyone...

The unfortunate thing about moving to Manhattan are the inevitable houseguests, and I don't mean vermin. Once word gets out that you are living in New York, you are done. People come out of the woodwork and ask to stay with you for a weekend. Some people, like my close friends, I do not mind hosting at all. But with others it's rude. And some people you can't turn down, such as family. I had this realization when my little cousin called me out of nowhere one night. I knew what was coming and there was no way I could fabricate a believable lie quickly enough. So this is how I got stuck with my military cousin and his wife driving up from VA Beach for the weekend. Now, I like my cousin just fine, but we do not have a whole lot in common.I knew this was going to throw a wrench in my plans for the weekend, and more importantly my, ahem, social life. I was also going to have to sleep on our pull-out couch for 2 nights and I was not pleased. But I had to bite the bullet, so after coming home from a terrible day at work, I took them to dinner at my fave German beer garden up the street. My cousin had a giant stein of beer and I thought nothing of it. Afterwards we headed to Ave A to meet up with Russian Rocher, who had very randomly run into JM and her boy toy as well. After vetoing Niagara Bar due to the crowd, we went to Drop Off Service. My cousin bought me a couple beers and we drunkenly gossiped about our family. We stayed for an hour or two before heading home around 2 to go to bed. Definitely not a huge night for me though still relatively fun.

However, it must have been a big night for them. I wasn't thinking about the fact that my 23 year old cousin and his wife, who live in the suburbs, never go out. I pretty much always forget the fact that those who don't live in New York, often times aren't used to going out and drinking the whole night. This was apparent to me at 11:30 the next morning, when I was wide awake and ready to head to brunch and they had not budged. When I peeked in to check on them, there was a garbage can next to the bed and I knew it was over. I waited around for another couple hours and when they still had not moved, I headed out for the day. Atl and I got food, went to the San Genaro fest in Soho and ultimately ended up at a bar. I was off the hook for awhile as the fam was heading to a Yankee's game (of course).

We regrouped later that night and I had no clue what the hell to do with them. GF wanted to meet for dinner and I decided on a not very trendy Thai place near my apartment. One of GF's gay friends was having a bday party at a bar in Soho that night and I was pretty concerned about how the fam would fit in. Luckily they claimed they were tired after dinner so I gave them the keys to my apartment and headed off into the night. This was definitely for the best, as the bar was pretty classy, with bottle service. The pack of gays present were all very attractive and stylish, so my cousin and his Etnie sneakers would have been a bit out of place. After awhile at this place we all went to Botanica bar for a bit, until GF had to call it a night. Upon my exit the gays all told me that I was welcome to hang out with them anytime because I am pretty, which I vainly relished in.

My night was not over though, since Yahtzee had invited me to Los Feliz in the LES. GF was a gentleman and walked me there. There was a huge line out front, but Yahtzee managed to get me in by lying to the bouncer that his friend had a table. I don't even think there are tables at Los Feliz but it worked and I skipped the massive line. He was with a group whom I did not know and he was trying to mack it to one of the girls, who not only did not seem interested but also had a couple other dork admirers present. Yahtzee tried to get me to distract one of them but the guy couldn't hold a conversation for shit and after a few minutes I gave up and ran around the place doing god knows what.

In the end, Yahtzee did not get the girl and the fam left relatively early the next morning. I'm not sure if I exactly showed them a good time in New York, but it's not my fault they can't rally or easily walk up five flights of stairs. Luckily they were there to let me back into my apartment at 3AM and I was able to still go out, so all was not lost.