Jul 04, 2006 13:15
Joy just left, and forgot her headphones, which should make for a disturbing four-hour bus ride back to Boston on the Lucky Star.
This weekend was pretty out of control. On Friday we drank meal-beers and nearly ordered a $1.50 sliced tomato, after which we headed down to the Lower East Side and went first to the Dark Room and then the Piano Bar, where we took photos in the bathroom and were dance-assaulted. We met some Canadians who followed us to the East Village and tried to get us to go swimming. Offensive.
Saturday was Mars Bar, where we weren't nearly crustpunk.com enough, and thus were treated like some breed of illegal hipster alien. After Joy drank an entire glass of gin we went back to the Dark Room. A Brooklynite with bad hair and worse skills tried hitting on me and stealing me away from Joy (never, my friend). We then met Jamie, a tall and handsome British painter. We're probably going to get married. No big deal. He invited us to 151 for the continuation of his friend's birthday celebration. Shots and general love were handed out.
On Sunday we decided to take it easy (Easy USA), or something. We went to the Village Lantern, which hosts comedy in the basement. I threw a lime at some girl who wouldn't shut the fuck up. We got involved. We ate six pounds of french fries. We were heroes.
Last night we met up with some bike messengers, who turned out to be pretty clean-cut. "Hi, I'm Andy." "Hi, I'm disapointed." We drank beers and were generally offensive and insulting and debaucherous. Later we tried to meet Jamie at a party called Motherfucker, which was about forty blocks away and twenty dollars to get in. We called it a night after singing Counting Crows and nearly peeing ourselves.
This should happen every weekend.