The Story Where I Go To Bed At "Like 10."
My weekend, part 2.
As we last left off, I had returned late at night from an adrenaline-filled mountain rally in the Jeep. I made some late-night FaceBook and MySpace comments, and promptly went to bed.
I finally got myself out of bed around 1 PM, but did little until much later. I had two plans for the day. Go to my neighbor's annual end of summer party, and later take the train to Manhattan for the GlamDammit anniversary party.
Jason and Mark called around 2:30 and urged me to come to the city early and hang out. This accelerated my timeframe in which to get ready. I was finally showered, dressed, and ready to go by 3:30. I got to the neighborhood party just in time to grab a plate of food before the caterers took it away. It was decent time. The property was huge, and looked great. This year they added an artificial spring far up the hill, trickling over rocks for a distance, until finally joining the man-made pond at the base of the mountain. In the short time I was there, I got to catch up with family and neighbors, begin my day of drinking, and get some dece food in me.
I made the 4:37 train and played my DS until I hit Grand Central. As I arrived, a series of texts instructed me to head to Chinatown. A few subway stops later, I was running down the sidewalk, being berated by texts of "Hurry the fuck up, you slow ass jobber." Mark, Jason, and Jayme showed me the spoils of their Manhattan shopping spree. Clothing, classic NES games, and Hexen 64 - which I am really looking forward to four-playering out again.
We hopped a cab to Williamsburg to hit some quality thrift shops. In the cab, I got my first glimpse (and earful) of the new TV/GPS system in the back seat of the cabs that caused such a cabby uprising. It was relatively harmless, but the "channels" were very repetitive, and I imagine will drive some cab drivers to insanity within days.
The thrift shop had some deals, but I didn't want to carry bags around all night, so decided I'd go back another time. I was looking at jackets on one rack, and held up a red leather "Tyler Durden" jacket. Mark rushed over and snatched it out of my hand. Within seconds of modeling it before the mirror, he was at the counter purchasing it for $20. Next, I held up a black leather jacket with a phoenix drawn with pyramid studs on the back. Jason tried it on, asked a bit, and then decided that it was far too badass to pass up on. $50 later, it, too, was in his bag of spoils.
We spent about a half hour trying to find a cab, but when we did finally get one, we were very much rewarded. This guy was a monster. He drove so frickin' fast at all times. If another vehicle of pedestrian took more than two seconds to move, he was laying on the horn. Over the Williamsburg bridge, he weaved in and out of cars as if it was an old NES racing game. Of course, to aid him, he had Mark cheering him on from the passenger seat. In between Avenue A and 1st Ave, this man hit 50 MPH. I was watching the spedometer... this was a span of about 300 feet. He delivered us at St. Marks Place only four minutes after we left Brooklyn. We of course layed a giant tip into his hand. That's quite a feat.
After a bit of shopping for accessories, we hit up a corner market for some booze, then headed to Kendra's apartment. I spent a few hours in the living room talking to Derek, Liz, and her friend. Jason took everyone else to Kendra's room to watch TV. They missed out on quality stories from the friend. I'll give you my favorite part: "So in this car we find a duffel bag. Inside this bag, right, we find a gun! Then we find ANOTHER GUN!" I of course had to ask, "So like, it wasn't just two guns. It was a gun...and then another gun." "Yeah! And then we found a police badge, so we freaked out and put it all back in the car and ran away."
After a while, I ran out of beer, and was anxious to go to the club. In Kendra's room, they were watching UFC fighting. Rampage Jackson was fighting, and I was talking about how good a fighter he supposed is. I was very wrong. The fight was so boring. Meanwhile, through conversation we were coining memorable phrases such as "slimy dish," "fanny pack of scabby dicks with mayonnaise and onions," and "pimprage." Uninterested in who actually won the UFC match, we left for Club Rififi.
The club was pretty well populated. We got some drink tickets, a few people bought us shots, and it was a fun time. At one point, Jimtoxicated asked for "Five of the nastiest shots you can make." It was like tobasco, olive brine, gin, and soy sauce. Delicious!
At 2AM we watched Michael T perform a few Bowie songs live on stage, which was completely new to me. We then rushed across town to Misshapes, since it was the last night before they close down. I'd never been there before, but it was like a big warehouse, with a bar and VIP lounge on one side, and a stage and DJ booth on the other side. There were too many people in there for me, and we had no access to free drinks. It was very sentimental for Jason, though, so we hung out and made the best of it. Mark and I ended up just sitting outside on the sidewalk, chatting with random people for about an hour. When we went back in, there were far fewer people inside, and it was actually a decent time. Realizing that we weren't having as much fun as we would have at Rififi, Jason gave us a $20, and sent us to the bar. Two beers and two shots...$28. What the fuck?! Mark charmed the bartender into just taking the twenty, and I threw in a two-dollar tip. That seemed more reasonable.
At 4, they turned the lights on and tried to get everyone out. The DJ had different plans. He played four more songs, and the crowd chose to stay and keep dancing through them. It was kind of cool, but definitely didn't impact me as much as the "regulars." Outside we got some photos taken by some random photography site; maybe those pictures will turn up eventually. Jason put Jayme in a cab to Penn station, and the rest of us went off to find an ATM.
It was now 4:30 and I was starving, so I bought a sandwich to eat in the cab. We headed back to Rififi so that Jason could retrieve his credit card. He left it at the bar when he opened a tab. Because the bartenders had already closed out the registers and were feeling lazy, he got a super-discount off the tab, which is always amazing. I sat at the bar, while Jason and Mark went into the back room for some reason. They missed out. DJ Jess got behind the bar and started pouring shots. He kindly included me in the round. I had random conversation with he and Saraphim for a while. We knew each other, but never really talked much in the past. Soon, round two of shots came. This time it was a girl behind the bar making them, and we had a few more people in on it. She thought I missed the round, so she poured two more, and would not let me refuse a shot with her. Down went number three. Next, Michael T came into the room with Jason, Mark, and some other people. He did a huge round of Zygo shots with everyone who was left in the club. Zygo is fucking terrible tasting. I hate it.
At this point, most people left. All who remained were the three of us, Michael T, Antonio, and Kyle (pronounced KeyLay) and her friend. Antonio went to pack up his DJ equipment. Micheal T and Mark went in the back room to talk, and Jason and I spoke with Kyle and her friend (Note: For the record, I say "her," because Kyle is a drag queen. Her friends was a gay man. I think they were a couple but really don't remember). I don't recall much of what we talked about, because the shots were beginning to hit me. I know we were encouraged to feel the fake boob pads that Kyle wears in her bra, since she never got implants. It should have been creepy, but wasn't. It was actually an impressive, realistic consistency.
The two of them left after a while. Antonio felt like doing a shot of whiskey, so Jason and I were handed glasses as well. Number five.
We were basically killing time at this point. Since we all left from HV/Wingdale, we had to wait for the later train, as it's the first to go all the way through that far North. It was at seven thirty-something. Jason and I can't remember what the hell we talked about with Antonio for over an hour. We just know it was fun, and a good use of time. As 7 O'clock approached, we went to find Mark. Joking that they were hooking up in the coat closet, Jason sent me in to investigate. Nobody was in there. Not even in the adjoining room behind it. I was baffled. Antonio showed us that there was a basement. That's where we found Mark, freaking out over the absurd 80s VHS collection in the basement. It was literally a library of assorted videos. Wow.
We said our goodbyes, and took a cab to Grand Central. We were awakened by some random passenger at the Southeast interchange. Thank the gods for that man. I stayed awake on the connecting train to ensure that it didn't happen again. I got home at 9:30 to find my dad standing in the kitchen, just hanging out. I talked to him for a bit while making an egg sandwich - much needed breakfast. I changed clothes, brushed my teeth, and went to bed at like 10 O'Clock. AM.
...I was hungover for two days.
As we last left off, I had returned late at night from an adrenaline-filled mountain rally in the Jeep. I made some late-night FaceBook and MySpace comments, and promptly went to bed.
I finally got myself out of bed around 1 PM, but did little until much later. I had two plans for the day. Go to my neighbor's annual end of summer party, and later take the train to Manhattan for the GlamDammit anniversary party.
Jason and Mark called around 2:30 and urged me to come to the city early and hang out. This accelerated my timeframe in which to get ready. I was finally showered, dressed, and ready to go by 3:30. I got to the neighborhood party just in time to grab a plate of food before the caterers took it away. It was decent time. The property was huge, and looked great. This year they added an artificial spring far up the hill, trickling over rocks for a distance, until finally joining the man-made pond at the base of the mountain. In the short time I was there, I got to catch up with family and neighbors, begin my day of drinking, and get some dece food in me.
I made the 4:37 train and played my DS until I hit Grand Central. As I arrived, a series of texts instructed me to head to Chinatown. A few subway stops later, I was running down the sidewalk, being berated by texts of "Hurry the fuck up, you slow ass jobber." Mark, Jason, and Jayme showed me the spoils of their Manhattan shopping spree. Clothing, classic NES games, and Hexen 64 - which I am really looking forward to four-playering out again.
We hopped a cab to Williamsburg to hit some quality thrift shops. In the cab, I got my first glimpse (and earful) of the new TV/GPS system in the back seat of the cabs that caused such a cabby uprising. It was relatively harmless, but the "channels" were very repetitive, and I imagine will drive some cab drivers to insanity within days.
The thrift shop had some deals, but I didn't want to carry bags around all night, so decided I'd go back another time. I was looking at jackets on one rack, and held up a red leather "Tyler Durden" jacket. Mark rushed over and snatched it out of my hand. Within seconds of modeling it before the mirror, he was at the counter purchasing it for $20. Next, I held up a black leather jacket with a phoenix drawn with pyramid studs on the back. Jason tried it on, asked a bit, and then decided that it was far too badass to pass up on. $50 later, it, too, was in his bag of spoils.
We spent about a half hour trying to find a cab, but when we did finally get one, we were very much rewarded. This guy was a monster. He drove so frickin' fast at all times. If another vehicle of pedestrian took more than two seconds to move, he was laying on the horn. Over the Williamsburg bridge, he weaved in and out of cars as if it was an old NES racing game. Of course, to aid him, he had Mark cheering him on from the passenger seat. In between Avenue A and 1st Ave, this man hit 50 MPH. I was watching the spedometer... this was a span of about 300 feet. He delivered us at St. Marks Place only four minutes after we left Brooklyn. We of course layed a giant tip into his hand. That's quite a feat.
After a bit of shopping for accessories, we hit up a corner market for some booze, then headed to Kendra's apartment. I spent a few hours in the living room talking to Derek, Liz, and her friend. Jason took everyone else to Kendra's room to watch TV. They missed out on quality stories from the friend. I'll give you my favorite part: "So in this car we find a duffel bag. Inside this bag, right, we find a gun! Then we find ANOTHER GUN!" I of course had to ask, "So like, it wasn't just two guns. It was a gun...and then another gun." "Yeah! And then we found a police badge, so we freaked out and put it all back in the car and ran away."
After a while, I ran out of beer, and was anxious to go to the club. In Kendra's room, they were watching UFC fighting. Rampage Jackson was fighting, and I was talking about how good a fighter he supposed is. I was very wrong. The fight was so boring. Meanwhile, through conversation we were coining memorable phrases such as "slimy dish," "fanny pack of scabby dicks with mayonnaise and onions," and "pimprage." Uninterested in who actually won the UFC match, we left for Club Rififi.
The club was pretty well populated. We got some drink tickets, a few people bought us shots, and it was a fun time. At one point, Jimtoxicated asked for "Five of the nastiest shots you can make." It was like tobasco, olive brine, gin, and soy sauce. Delicious!
At 2AM we watched Michael T perform a few Bowie songs live on stage, which was completely new to me. We then rushed across town to Misshapes, since it was the last night before they close down. I'd never been there before, but it was like a big warehouse, with a bar and VIP lounge on one side, and a stage and DJ booth on the other side. There were too many people in there for me, and we had no access to free drinks. It was very sentimental for Jason, though, so we hung out and made the best of it. Mark and I ended up just sitting outside on the sidewalk, chatting with random people for about an hour. When we went back in, there were far fewer people inside, and it was actually a decent time. Realizing that we weren't having as much fun as we would have at Rififi, Jason gave us a $20, and sent us to the bar. Two beers and two shots...$28. What the fuck?! Mark charmed the bartender into just taking the twenty, and I threw in a two-dollar tip. That seemed more reasonable.
At 4, they turned the lights on and tried to get everyone out. The DJ had different plans. He played four more songs, and the crowd chose to stay and keep dancing through them. It was kind of cool, but definitely didn't impact me as much as the "regulars." Outside we got some photos taken by some random photography site; maybe those pictures will turn up eventually. Jason put Jayme in a cab to Penn station, and the rest of us went off to find an ATM.
It was now 4:30 and I was starving, so I bought a sandwich to eat in the cab. We headed back to Rififi so that Jason could retrieve his credit card. He left it at the bar when he opened a tab. Because the bartenders had already closed out the registers and were feeling lazy, he got a super-discount off the tab, which is always amazing. I sat at the bar, while Jason and Mark went into the back room for some reason. They missed out. DJ Jess got behind the bar and started pouring shots. He kindly included me in the round. I had random conversation with he and Saraphim for a while. We knew each other, but never really talked much in the past. Soon, round two of shots came. This time it was a girl behind the bar making them, and we had a few more people in on it. She thought I missed the round, so she poured two more, and would not let me refuse a shot with her. Down went number three. Next, Michael T came into the room with Jason, Mark, and some other people. He did a huge round of Zygo shots with everyone who was left in the club. Zygo is fucking terrible tasting. I hate it.
At this point, most people left. All who remained were the three of us, Michael T, Antonio, and Kyle (pronounced KeyLay) and her friend. Antonio went to pack up his DJ equipment. Micheal T and Mark went in the back room to talk, and Jason and I spoke with Kyle and her friend (Note: For the record, I say "her," because Kyle is a drag queen. Her friends was a gay man. I think they were a couple but really don't remember). I don't recall much of what we talked about, because the shots were beginning to hit me. I know we were encouraged to feel the fake boob pads that Kyle wears in her bra, since she never got implants. It should have been creepy, but wasn't. It was actually an impressive, realistic consistency.
The two of them left after a while. Antonio felt like doing a shot of whiskey, so Jason and I were handed glasses as well. Number five.
We were basically killing time at this point. Since we all left from HV/Wingdale, we had to wait for the later train, as it's the first to go all the way through that far North. It was at seven thirty-something. Jason and I can't remember what the hell we talked about with Antonio for over an hour. We just know it was fun, and a good use of time. As 7 O'clock approached, we went to find Mark. Joking that they were hooking up in the coat closet, Jason sent me in to investigate. Nobody was in there. Not even in the adjoining room behind it. I was baffled. Antonio showed us that there was a basement. That's where we found Mark, freaking out over the absurd 80s VHS collection in the basement. It was literally a library of assorted videos. Wow.
We said our goodbyes, and took a cab to Grand Central. We were awakened by some random passenger at the Southeast interchange. Thank the gods for that man. I stayed awake on the connecting train to ensure that it didn't happen again. I got home at 9:30 to find my dad standing in the kitchen, just hanging out. I talked to him for a bit while making an egg sandwich - much needed breakfast. I changed clothes, brushed my teeth, and went to bed at like 10 O'Clock. AM.
...I was hungover for two days.