“Tie me kangaroo down, sport!” (a Dominican baby shower and Saturday Night Karaoke @ Pieces)

After enjoying breakfast in bed and luxuriating in the bath Grrber had drawn for me (feel free to hate), I went to meet the boys at Maracas. I was a good 45 minutes late (and I’d already spent way too much from the night before), so I grabbed a sandwich for the train ride, stopping by the bar for a margarita once I arrived at the restaurant.

I was rather astonished to see that MicHELLe had made it out of bed. She recounted how she ended her night with a recurring favorite late-night companion: “A Philly cheese steak from Hampton Gormet Deli! And I had a little bit left over the this morning, too!”

Just then, the lights overhead began to flash and a comically familiar song started to play over the speakers. MicHELLe’s eyes went from laughing about the night before to “if you guys put me in for that birthday bullshit, I will cut all of you.” The entire wait staff was carrying the flaming cake and shot of tequila across the floor and shouting. Luckily, they went over to another table.

After they wrapped up brunch, we all tromped over to Pieces for more liquor. I was just along for the ride (I was trying to take it easy), but 5-foot 8x6 demanded that I take the drink he’d already made for me. After about half my drink, I had to take my leave of the boys to attend a baby shower for a Dominican girl that I went to college with (hadn’t seen her since sophomore year!).

I had bought the mother-to-be a present from her registry online, but it didn’t ship until the day before. And the only cards they had at the CVS in the Village were either gendered or had congrats-on-already-having-your-baby messages. After about 10 minutes of searching, I finally found one in Spanish and changed “Ha llegado tu bebé” to “Llegará tu bebé,” adding “Thank god I took Spanish in high school” to the bottom.

The invite said 6. I knew it was a Dominican family hosting, but I wasn’t sure exactly what was involved in a baby shower of any culture. And the last thing I wanted to do was to be insanely late to a very formal or religious ceremony.  When I arrived just before 6:30, there were about 4 guests there, and the family members that were helping set up were still in head wraps and street clothes.

“You can have a seat at one of the larger tables. And if you want something to drink, the bartender is right over there.” Noted.

I knew the only thing that would get me through this was my iPhone, which conveniently flashed the 20% power message as soon as I unlocked it. I moved to a table near an outlet so that I could plug it in (doesn't everyone keep an iPhone plug in her or his bag at all times). I Facebooked; I Twittered; I Tetrissed; I Grindred. Luckily, the DJ supplied an ample bachata and merengue soundtrack.

I made my first trip to the bar at 8.

People took their time showing up, but around 9, there was a good crowd. I was instantly able to point out the matriarch of the family by the way she interacted with everyone. Every so often, she would make a face and dance intensely (bachata or merengue) for about 4 bars before she and whoever was within 10 feet of her would bust out laughing.

I got to talking with a couple of older women whose husbands weren’t with them. Each table had a plate of cold cuts and cheese, and they encouraged me to chow down. “Nobody else is eating them! Let’s stuff our faces!! I’m getting another drink! I’ll get you one, too!”

Finally, the mother-to-be showed up around 10:10 (did I mention the invite said 6). Now, this was supposed to be a surprise shower, but she was the one who invited me. Yet the family still turned off all the lights and the music. As we sat in the dark, I wondered what Dominicans yell when someone walks into a room (it was “surprise”).

I stuck around until about 11:30 before sneaking out. Originally, I had planned to come for a couple of hours, go home, change, and go back to Pieces, but I had nixed that plan around 9.

Meanwhile, the rest of the boys had just continued drinking all day. You can imagine the mischief that ensued at Saturday Night Karaoke (and why they only do it once a month).

Highlights included people going bananas to “Flashdance”, 2 Aussies singing an 8 minute song with a chorus that vamped on “Tie me kangaroo down, sport!” (and included a derogatory verse about Aboriginals, which they didn’t sing), one of the Aussies falling on his back (for the second time that night) at the end of their song, and MicHELLe making out with said Aussie (after the fall, of course).

But my favorite part of the night was Bottomless Pitt and Med School Mess’s duet. The two opened the karaoke songbook to Tina Turner: “I can’t find “Rollin’ on a River”! I know they have it!”

Me (after a good 30 minutes of them being confused): “It’s called 'Proud Mary', asshole.”

Surprise of the night: Bottomless Pitt’s actually a decent bass when he tries. But I thought both of them were about to fall off the stage when they started dancing.

Did I mention that A trains were running every 20 minutes at this point, but it was so worth risking the wait it to witness their performance (plus it was running late anyway)? Yeah.

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