Fuck Off the Wagon

Some friends and I decided to go out drinking Monday night. We were a group of two blondes (my roomie and I), two French brunettes, and one lucky guy, Brody. Monday night is a great night to go out, because of the beer deals. I had been to this bar, Off the Wagon, a couple times since coming to NYC and had liked it, so I figured that my underage roommate and I could go there for a good time. The fun frenchie girls came too. I was the only one in our group who was of age, and my roommate was nervous about using her fake ID. The hologram on it reads, “AUTHENTIC” in bold capital letters. Not Obvious AT ALL, right?! So, we go to Off the Wagon and the doorman rejects it. What a mother fucker. I tried to talk him out of it, but he said they had been recently investigated by the ATF, blah blah blah. Some of my lines:

“She’s 20, she’s only got one more year. Don’t you remember how it felt waiting that one long year?”
“She’s a hottie and guys will be buying her drinks left and right. Do you know how much revenue she could generate for this establishment?”

He made me walk in with him while he chatted with the manager, who ultimately gave us the thumbs down. I was pretty pissed that I didn’t get my way. I did, however, get my roomie’s ID back from this turd. So we went down the street and used it at another place with success.

Some things are just meant to be. If we had been at Off the Wagon, we would not have had the fun that we ended up having. Thus begins another Monday night adventure in New York City.

Walking down the street, we saw a group of guys standing out in front of this bar. They recruited us to come into this place, which ended up being a comedy club. At first, we were the only people there so we had to sit up front. A group of four English guys sat behind us. One of them looked like Prince Harry. We sat, chatted and drank, waiting for these comedians to get the show going.
When they did, we were not at a loss for attention. When they asked, “Where’s everybody from?” to our front row, the response was funny in its own right:
“New Jersey”
“Paris”
“Kentucky.” (What the fuck is the Kentucky girl doing with a Jersey chick and two Parisians?!)

The comedians varied in ability, but were overall funny as hell. My favorite was actually the host, Peyton, from Mobile, Alabama. He opens for some of the SNL cats, and is actually a career comic. AND a southern gentleman! What a trip!

At the end of the night, we were all in stitches and I was feelin’ good after several pitchers of beer. After the show, Peyton asked me to catch a drink with him. Creeps are a dime a dozen here in the city, and this guy was hilarious so it seemed too good to be true. So, I was a bit leery - but get this: This guy puts a handful of cash in my purse, and says to me, “This is all the money that I made tonight. If I creep you out, take it with you and use it to get a cab home.” I didn’t want his money, but I did appreciate his gesture, and I honestly thought it was an interesting concept. So, I hung around after my pals left and drank with this guy.

After drinking a bourbon and coke and chatting for a while, he asked me to dance. How often do you come across a guy who truly knows how to dance? Almost never. But, this guy was phenomenal! We danced to Pearl Jam, and I followed his lead best I could, but this guy is a real performer and totally confidant. I have never been dipped so low, spun so much or whisked around like that before! At the end of the song, we (really him, as he was the one who had all the sweet moves) were applauded! My second applause so far in a NYC bar!

He took me to this bar (where he’s a regular), and the bar tender was from Glasgow. (He’s a Celtics fan, though.) At this bar, we played buck hunt, with the big plastic rifle that you shoot at the deer on the video screen. I suck at this game, but I really like to shoot guns, and I was drunk so I had a blast! I might have been better at this game if they had a plastic spot light, to go along with the rifle….

I laughed more in one night than I have in the past month. Please, at least once in your life, get drunk with a comedian. If you really want to have a great time, you should also smoke pot with them, as I did at about 3 AM, while watching Family Guy. Those of you who know me or even just read my blog know that there are few things in life that I appreciate more than weed, cartoons and a well-crafted sandwich. At the end of the night, all three of these things were laid right in my lap. It was fabulous! (At sometime or another, I remember the two of us in a deli playing scratch offs at the counter..but I’m not sure how that fits into the chronology.) At any rate…

Not even once did this guy make an advance, make any references to sex, or even act like he might make a move. Never did I feel awkward or uncomfortable. It was straight chillin’…which is exactly what I’ve missed so much since I’ve been here in the city! I returned his cash “deposit” that he put in my purse earlier that night and paid for my own cab home. I had such an awesome time! Yet again, another bad ass Monday night.