This ought to make up for the past few weeks, I thought. You see, a weeks ago, some certain friends of mine had said that after our final exam, we would go out and get completely wasted. After the final, that did not happen. However, there were some words exchanged that stated that on some day of the following week (the week right after the final), we would make up for the lack of shitfacedness on the night of the final. The week passed, and still, nothing. I was irritated at the lameness of the entire situation. I hoped this Friday would prove to be a welcome change from the lametacity I had become accustomed to.
I was already running short on time this day. I had originally planned to rendezvous with *Nature Boy Sweet Cakes* for some rock climbing and hanging out, and then the Restaurant Week event. However, he never contacted me about it so I assumed he was busy with work (he does a lot of very important stuff for Satan regarding benefits for the damned souls and the like). As luck would have it, my lonely brother really wanted to watch Transformers 3 and unfortunately was unable to find anyone to accompany him. He thus asked me as a last resort and I wholeheartedly agreed.
My OGs (*Ale-X*, *J-Boogie*, and *Playboy*) as well as other people were also having dinner that night, and unfortunately I could not attend due to my prior-arranged obligations with the *Walnut Manifesto*, as well as the movie engagement with my brother. *J-Boogie* asked me to hang out, if even for a little bit, after I was done with the movie. I suspected the movie would end around 7:30 PM, and I would have an hour to hang out before the 9 PM dinner reservation so I agreed.
Off I go to see the movie, and after some frantic movement due to a certain theater’s tickets being sold out, we finally are sitting down and enjoying the movie. It had its suspenseful points, but lots of unnecessary as well as unexplained action. Yet somehow there was a point when the problem was there was too little action. For example, why was Megatron asleep before the Megan Fox replacement woke him up and called him a pussy?
After the movie, I venture to St. Marks where my OGs were just about done having dinner. I tried to contact *Playboy* and *J-Boogie*, both of whom were largely unresponsive, resulting in me relaxing and reading yelp reviews on a bench for 45 minutes before I left to go to Smith and Wollensky. As I was waiting, I called *Platypuss* to confirm the time we would be meeting. She was very short with me and tried to get me off the phone as soon as possible. It all made sense when I heard *Etiquette Nazi*’s voice in the background. Say no more *Platypuss*, say no more. During my wait time, I also texted *PunkSmashRoyale* to see if he had found parking since he was driving in. He says that he is still driving and that he is picking up *Plane Jane*. My first reaction is “… What the FUCK? You’re going all the way to Long Island?” He says “Nooooo, picking her up from Penn Station.” Oh, okay. My second reaction was “… What the FUCK? You’re not going to give me a ride?” Luckily for me I did not verbalize this second automatic impulse of mine as it may have appeared overly hostile and greedy. “Wow, fifth wheel again” I thought to myself. Well, wouldn’t be the first time! And sure as hell won’t be the last.
I get to Smith and Wollensky and I tell their friendly employee that my party will be a little bit late, but that we will definitely still be there. He tells me that two members of my party have already checked in and he points to my left where I see none other than *PunkSmashRoyale* and *Plane Jane*. Well hello hello! I quickly greet them and *Plane Jane* immediately comments on our lack of matching outfits. She eventually mentions her skanky look and I was inclined to agree.
We get a call from *Platypuss* and *Etiquette Nazi* and it sounds like they will be another fifteen to twenty minutes. We ask the restaurant if we can sit down even though not all of our party is here and we are vehemently denied, although we are kindly suggested to have a drink at the bar. Ummmm, ordering drinks at a high-class pricey restaurant? FUCK THAT! I quickly suggest that we pregame somewhere else while waiting for the other two members of our party, and my two fellas agree. We step outside and due to the wonderful technology of my Blueberry, I find that a certain “Manchester Pub” is not too far away; so we immediately set off on that trek.
We walk in and sit down, and immediately *Plane Jane* states that she is not going to drink there. She is going to “save the drinking for later.” Okay, what the FUCK? *PunkSmashRoyale* also states that he does not want to drink yet and somehow in the process mentions that it is easy for him to get intoxicated. I see... so the three of us just got to a pub, and the two of you are telling me that you don't want to drink; am I understanding that correctly?
I was not happy about this. Look, if they’re not going to get some relatively cheap drinks here, then they are not going to drink later on when the drinks likely become more expensive.
After some convincing, *Plane Jane* says she will have a cranberry vodka, yet somehow a few seconds later she manages to again reaffirm that she does not want to drink anything. Well, we’ll just see about that. I am wondering, why did you two follow me to a bar if you did not want to drink? The waitress comes by and I order a Guinness for myself, a cranberry vodka for *Plane Jane*, and I ask *PunkSmashRoyale* what he would like. He starts with an “I don’t know…” so I was left with no choice but to cut him off and order him a Guinness as well. Just after the waitress leaves, *PunkSmashRoyale* takes out his wallet and asks us “So they’re not going to check ID?” “… Shut the fuck up *PunkSmashRoyale!*!” was the only response I could think up (that guy is under-age).
Our drinks come and I quickly down the smooth smooth Guinness. *Plane Jane*’s drink is practically all ice and she asks me to finish it. I tell her to respect the drink and finish that mofo. *PunkSmashRoyale* didn’t even finish every last drop and I had to show that Guinness some respect. By this time, *Platypuss* and *Etiquette Nazi* had already arrived at Smith and Wollensky and were impatiently waiting for us. After finishing our drinks, we bolted back to the restaurant, where the two of them were giving us the cold shoulder. *Plane Jane* tried to win her sister back by complimenting her on her shoes, which I found to be quite hilarious (the sucking up, not the shoes (that’s a different story)).
At the dinner table, we had an argument about who was late and who was to blame, et cetera. I, *Plane Jane*, and *PunkSmashRoyale* said that THEY were late first, which led us to go to a bar to wait for them, so it was their fault. *Etiquette Nazi* in turn blamed US, because although they were late first, by leaving and coming back later, we were in fact later than them. However, after a certain point (perhaps possibly the beginning point), this whole blame-game became a very stupid argument. Whatever, we got to sit down, who cares? I just said it was my fault since I wanted to pregame and I would take whatever blame they were willing to throw at me. No, this was not very mature of me nor am I TRYING to sound mature. I just could not stand the incessant jabbering anymore and wanted to talk about steak, so it was more selfish than anything.
We get our appetizers, and the jerk releases itself. I forget what happened first; perhaps *Platypuss* reached across the table for some butter to spread on her bread. (Oh yeah, now I remember, somebody took the wrong fork.) Regardless of my shabby memory, once it was released, there was no chaining… the jerk.
“You’re not supposed to reach across the table. That is so rude.”
“Dude, you’re supposed to use the forks on your left. DUDE! FROM THE OUTSIDE, IN!”
“Seriously, can you not jab your fork into my calamari?”
“I don’t want that fork now. You just ate off of it, that’s disgusting!”
“Oh my GOD! I am never going to eat with you guys in a fancy restaurant ever AGAIN!”
In my defense, the two forks were exactly the same. Anyhoo, I didn’t see the point in making such a big deal out of our uncivilized behavior. We were all among friends so I felt *Etiquette Nazi* went a little overboard with his mannerism lecture. But I digress.
While we are eating, we find out that *Plane Jane* has to leave us relatively early because she has to work at 9:00 AM the next day. Her boss had wanted her to work that night but she had begged him to let her leave early at 7:00 PM so she could make it to the dinner. Well, that’s just great. We didn’t even start the real drinking yet, and things were already falling apart.
The after-dinner plans were to go to a bar, except for *Plane Jane* who was going home. For some reason which I do not recall, we stopped off at a Duane Reade to buy our own alcohol. Perhaps we thought the bar would be too pricey for our tastes. As *Plane Jane* fell asleep on the makeup chair, I reminded everyone that we had to hurry up if she was going to make her train. *Etiquette Nazi* reassures us that we have plenty of time. We finish up at Duane Reade and *Etiquette Nazi* says “We don’t have a lot of time, we need to take a cab.” You fucking idiot.
We take a cab to Penn Station, and then take the same cab to the Hotel Gansevoort (The driver did not seem particularly happy with us and apparently was giving *Etiquette Nazi* some attitude. Should have given him one of your etiquette lessons), where we were supposedly going to go drinking. Unfortunately, the line was crazy long and it was down to three dudes and one dudette, there was no way we were going to get in no matter how gay the bouncers were (and they were pretty gay).
Eventually we decide to just drive to a beach and drink. We take a cab to Webster Hall so*PunkSmashRoyale* could get his car keys from his roommate (who drove here) and then we take yet another cab to the upper west side where the car is parked.
In there, we mix lemonade with ice tea vodka… to make some kind of Arnold Palmer cocktail. We all take turns drinking except for the driver. It was very ineffective at getting us inebriated. Then we started drinking the beer, which was even less effective and made us all very bloated. We decided to drive to Long Beach while we played the drinking game where whenever one of us says a word/term we have to drink. I told them my about my Belizean vacation where the drink-word was “Panty Ripper.” That was the worst idea ever because I completely forgot about the Panty Ripper until I finished telling the story. I had to improvise and just say Panty Ripper a few times for no reason.
We then played the same game except every time a song came on; we came up with a drink-word for the song. For example, when Rihanna’s “Umbrella” came on, the drink-word was “umbrella.” We got really creative for this shit. I think for Rolling in the deep, our drink-word was “had it all.” It was a night filled with non-recollections.
We finally make it to Long Beach and we all have to pee. I for one stood tall on a giant rock and urinated on the Earth like a champion. Unfortunately I do not have any pictures of that, but here’s a Long Beach related picture.
Highlight of the night: *Platypuss* was wearing a dress and lying down and *Etiquette Nazi* took a picture (with flash) of her thong. It was ethically inexcusable but comically uproarious. He then showed the picture to us and it looked very WEIRD. She seemed to have red splotches all over the place, so if anybody is looking to tap *Platypuss*, consider yourself fairly warned.
(Seriously though, *Etiquette Nazi*, that was very fucked up of you.)
Disclaimer: It was later established that the part of the picture that had red splotches was part of the seat we were sitting on.
We left Long Beach but forgot where we parked. This situation became slightly embarrassing when somebody looking for parking asked us if we were leaving. “Yeah, but we forgot where we parked… give us a second.”
We then drove to Bayville to watch the sunrise.
We called it a night after that. It was back to *Platypuss*’s den for a little napskie until brunch later on in the day. While I slept on the couch, her roommate walked by several times. I’m sure two guys lying down in her living room is a normal occurrence for her, but still, it was weird for me.
I also had a weird dream where I and my friend (whom we shall call *PeePee Chowder*) were driving around looking for a store that sold special lanterns. What made these lanterns so special were that they had dragonflies and/or mosquitoes inside them. We were in the store looking around and I am staring at this lantern, when one of them flying buggers flies out of the lantern and I’m like “oh shit.”
Needless to say, I got bitten many times in this dream and the only reason I remember the dream is because I woke up remembering dreaming about having a lot of mosquito bites.
And so ended that night. It was kinda lame since none of us got feces on our face, but what was most important was that we made the most of our night. It was the best it could possibly be given the circumstances, and that’s what truly matters.
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