someone’s gonna swing a punch

Remember when I said I was tired of the same old Thursday thing?  Well, I was determined to have a good time this Thursday.  I had just finished the shittiest 3-day work week ever, and I had taken Friday off.

A friend of MicHELLe’s was having a party in Park Slope (which is some other boro besides Manhattan… okay, I’m not that much of a snob; it’s Brooklyn).  I had dropped my stuff off at SoHo Crush’s place on my way.  He couldn’t deal with letting me in at 2am, so he gave me a copy of his keys!  Nice.  

So I make it out to Bumfuck Egypt Brooklyn around 10, and the streets are deserted!  I mean, there were a few people on the main avenue, but there was absolutely no one on the side streets.  After being sufficiently freaked out by the silence when I turned down the wrong street, I finally made it (up all 5 floors) to the party.

Readers, I love you dearly, especially if you open up your home, feed me booze, and introduce me to your cute friends.  But please, please don’t ever host a party with cups less than 10oz in size!  Once you put the ice cubes and any significant amount of liquor in, there’s barely room for color, uh, mixer.  And just to minimize confusion, try to keep anything that could be mistaken for a dildo out of public view (this includes the freezer).

We actually had a great time at the party.  I made an effort to build bridges between groups of people I didn’t know (especially that group that included the guy in the orange shirt with the nice butt).  Every so often, MicHELLe and I would sit next to each other on the couch, which gave us a perfect view of the whole party.  We couldn't resist whispering commentary out of the sides of our mouths (as we always do). 

As good a time as we were having, I was determined to not have my night end with an hour-and-change commute (or at a house party where there was no dancing), so I rallied a group to go somewhere else, but of course, that group turned into Bottomless Pitt, Urban Sprawl, and me.  I had suggested Tricky Thursdays at the Annex or the Phoenix (two places I’d never go if I had to work on Friday).  Bottomless Pitt was determined to go to Tricky Thursdays.  At this point, Urban Sprawl couldn’t spell her name with a 10-letter hint, so she really had no say in the matter.  Somehow, Bottomless Pitt dragged Bitter Commie Grad Student into our journey.  Not dragged as in against his will.  Dragged as in he could barely make it down the stairs after all the great 'hospitality'.  He and Urban Sprawl are comically adversarial when they’re both out of it, but one day, someone’s gonna swing a punch.  And I’m not going to be able to unlock my iPhone fast enough to catch it!

We get on a train car with very few people.  And it’s a good thing, because Urban Sprawl starts poll dancing.  Except he can’t quite get a good grip on the poll, so he just kind of lifts his feet up and comes crashing to the floor.  Bottomless Pitt tries to act like she can’t deal and puts her iPod on, but after about 5 minutes, she starts poll dancing to Danity Kane (while singing!).  It was a long ride back to Manhattan.

Lower East Side.  We’re walking.  We’re laughing.  We pass by this guy who’s just kind of standing on the sidewalk looking at his phone in confusion.  Then he starts doing the drunk sway.  He takes one step and falls to the ground on his back.  Of course, we start laughing (to which the guy has absolutely no reaction), but the loudest laugher, Bottomless Pitt, takes no more than 2 steps before she trips over a trash bag on the sidewalk.  Karma. 

We get to the Annex and no one is there.  A friend of a friend I met in Maine, Sugar Boy, promotes for them that night, so I went up and greeted.  Note: always ask if there are specials.  His answer: drink tickets for all 4 of us.  And of course, Bitter Commie Grad Student had every intention of using his drink ticket (fully formed sentences are overrated).  He was last seen grinding with me to some hot 70s song.  Bottomless Pitt somehow starts dancing with this random dude who turns out to be the other promoter and gets another drink ticket from him (wooorrrrrrrk!).

Unfortunately, the hot 70s music wasn’t enough to keep the girls from exploring downstairs.  And you know what was downstairs?  Awful music, hipsters, and more women than men.  Not exactly my recipe for an ideal Thursday night.

“Are you guys determined to stay here?”

*confused look* “What?  It’s fun!”

Well, I certainly wasn’t drunk enough to venture to the Village by myself, so I took my ass back to the West Side.  Did I mention I had to give SoHo Crush his keys back?  Yeah.

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