This time, when I started plotting my journey to NY a month ago, I was supposed to stay with my gay friend Tom, who was going to take me out to some fabulous gay bar with probably the most intense techno music of my life. But instead I ended up staying with my friend from college, Jessica, whom I lovingly refer to as 'Mess', since when I met her that's what we both pretty much were. This was a good decision for 2 reasons:
1) Tom lost his phone in a day-drinking stupor and I never did hear from or see him while I was in NYC.
2) Mess is not a gay man.
Bad Decision: Getting only 6 hours cumulative sleep over 2.5 days by choice.
Better Bad Decision: Getting at least 6 hours cumulative sleep over 2.5 days by choice.
And now, a series of short NYC Adventure stories....
Who Took My Drink?
Mess and I are sitting in some low chairs, enjoying cocktails, listening to music in a lounge when we are approached by a gentleman who looks pretty much like LL Cool J. Kangol style hat and everything.LL: Would you ladies watch my drink for me?
ME: Sure, no problem.
LL: Don't let anyone steal it now!
Mess and I resume our conversation. Someone comes by and removes the drink. We don't flinch.
LL: Returns. Where's my drink?!
Mess and I look at each other in confusion. We look at him. We look around for potential drink stealers.
MESS: Um...someone took it...
Then, out of the shadows, LL's friend comes up with the offending drink in hand, passes it to his buddy, and they have a good smirk about how clever they were and give us looks like "did you see what we just did there? yeahhhh." Mess gets it right away- the drink-stealing-scenario was an elaborate ice breaker. It takes me another 45 minutes (Ok fine, hour and 45) before I understand what happened.
Oh, and when they point out to us that LL is in fact of African decent, while his buddy who "stole" the drink is Casper-white, Mess's response: "We don't see color."
Nice. Saved it.
Nice Ride
We had to transport ourselves from bar#1 to bar#2, and the logical choice was, of course, a taxi. We made our way to the curb, and I Carrie Bradshaw'ed my arm out there to hail one down. Perhaps Mess and I should have classed it down a little that night, because those yellow ones didn't want to stop for us...but a slick looking Lincoln towncar was all about it. The red flag probably should have been when Mess said "I never usually get into these things." But I've been ignoring red flags for years, so hey, what the hell. In we climbed.
Approximately 7 seconds into our journey we realized we were going to get our money's worth in entertainment value. Or be enjoying a new home in an alleyway with half our clothing. It really could have gone either way. Toni Macaloni was our driver, and he was both foreign and phenomenal.
TONI MACALONI: What you smoking pretty girl? You got a little something good there, huh?
ME: Smoking a clove cigarette Um, just a clove cig. Not sure if that's what you consider good.
TONI MACALONI: Oh yeah, baby. That sounds like a good thing, baby. Yeah, baby.
Muffled laughter from the back seat as Mess and I try to contain ourselves.
TONI MACALONI: You like this car, yeah? It's pretty smooth ride, yeah?
ME: Um, sure is.
TONI MACALONI: Say you like it. Say you like it, baby.
Awkward silence....
MESS: ...I like it.
This went on for most of the ride, at the end of which we were offered weed, given his phone number, and spared our lives. We paid Toni Macaloni with ten dollars, a clove cigarette, two singles, and a little piece of our hearts.
The Fashion Bieber
I swear I can't go anywhere anymore without having to call out some poor 20-something male on having a Beiber haircut. They don't, however, usually respond with "But he just got his hair cut! I haven't caught up yet." They also don't usually ask, "Do you guys work in fashion?" with as much hope as a 12 year old girl on Christmas looking for her pony. The Fashion Bieber also tried to impress us in interesting ways...
BIEBER'S FRIEND: This kid knows all the designers. He just throws out names of bags chicks are carrying as we walk down the street.
ME: Holds up bag OK, What's this one?
FASHION BIEBER: Longchamp.
No hesitation. At all.
Fashion Bieber, you entertained me so much with your happy oblivion to your own homosexuality that I retained your number in my phone. And the next time I am in NYC, I will call you. And I will quiz you on my bag.
I'll Go Get My Limo
Cue the seedy lesbian bar. My friend Julia, Mess, and I are enjoying a leisurely cocktail when Julia's friend stumbles in. Her first words?
"ALRIGHT. What shots are we taking?"
She then did proceed to purchase 2 rounds of shots for everyone in the remote vicinity. In every group of friends, there is one who is always a hott mess. If you're not sure who it is, it's probably you.
When it comes time to leave the bar (after a few moments confusion about day light savings time and how we got screwed out of an hour of drinking) Stumbly comes purposefully up to us and goes, "I'm going to go outside and get my limo. You guys come on out when you're ready." And wanders off again.
There was no limo.
She also stumbled around in the street for a good 15 minutes alternating between accosting cabs and yelling "Where's my car... WHERE IS MY CAR?!" And one of us would run out at 5 minute intervals and save her life from an oncoming moving vehicle.
When we did finally get back to this girl's apartment, she went to her kitchen to get us drinks and returned with...frozen daiquiris in bags. Bags. That's what I said. Bags.
Wedding poses make everything classy.
At a certain point (read: level of drunkness) drinking out of a bag without a straw becomes a challenge you are just not prepared to face. That's when this happens:
Literally spooning alcohol into my mouth.
New low.
In summary, NYC thrilled me and killed me. It was the most amazing weekend with the most amazing people and the fact that I remember this much of it is proof of that since I never remember anything. Now how many weeks do I have to wait before it is socially acceptable to return?
Life Lesson: If it doesn't say "TAXI" and isn't yellow, don't get into it.
You've been warned. ...on so many levels.
-LSLP, Ash
You forgot the part about the sketchies/randos that followed us back to my friend's apartment. Would tie in nicely to the previous post... Amanda, we definitely could have used your skills in avoiding said sketchies/randos because we literally tried running away from them and they ran after us. I kid you not. Chased us back to the apartment.
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