Your hand really should have been on her ass (Meet the Españard)

Good Friday was absolutely beautiful weather. In anticipation of the heat, a friend made a facebook event for "Playing Hookie" that afternoon. I most definitely wasn't attending an event that involved lying to my place of employment, but saw no problem with taking a very late lunch.

After a refreshing break from a terribly slow day at work, I returned to the office to find almost everyone gone. So I grabbed some sushi and went back to the Village. After happy-hour hopping, we ended up at the brilliance that was Vlada's Vicious Fridays' 15-minute open bars.

That Saturday was supposed to be in the 70s, but I don’t think it got above 65. Definitely not the best day for The Pier. I met some rather random people out there, but we quickly retreated to the shelter of Pieces.

image borrowed from www.belvederecollege.ie

Bottomless Pitt had mentioned that a guy who worked in his field that he had met online was moving to NYC from España and that they were meeting up. He didn’t mention that he was bringing the motherfucker to our most frequented happy hour! I’d forgotten about it til I saw the two of them sitting alone at a table in the back of the bar. The guy was slim and cute. Totally his type. A few of us went over and said hello before moving to the other side of the bar.

Bronx Newbie: “Is Bottomless Pitt on a date?”

Me: “Do you have an NVLD? Yes.”

Bronx: “I didn’t even pick up on that til just now.”

Me: “Told ya. Yeah, well…”

After about 20 minutes of socializing awkwardly (it was quite the mixed bag that showed up to the Pier), I was relieved to get a well-punctuated text from Bottomless Pitt:

. o O (Did they decide to keep it platonic?)

I met the Españard, who was wearing remarkably funky pants, and a bunch of us settled in the back corner of Pieces for a few hours. There was some contact with the Spaniard’s leg and mine. And neither of us made any effort to avoid it.

. o O (I guess they really weren’t on a date.)

image borrowed from cloudfiles.mosso.com

Well, the Spaniard commenced to flirt with just about everyone, and I guess he made out with a couple of guys, too. I didn’t think much of it until we were on the way to the train. Bottomless Pitt, MicHELLe and I were together ahead of the rest of the group, and Pitt let out her signature, “What the goddamn hell!”

Me (clueless): “What?”

Pitt: “That bitch I brought is about to hook up with everyone but me!”

Me: “Didn’t you say y’all were—”

Pitt: “MicHELLe, now I know how you felt at your Superbowl party.”

(Last year, when Pitt got drunk and made out and left with the guy MicHELLe had just broken off from hooking up with. At MicHELLe's apartment. She announced it to the Crew, but Pitt didn't get the memo. I'd link it, but I didn't blog about that part of the night.)

Me: “Pitt, really? You brought her to a bar that we always go to and didn’t stake an exclusive claim. Your hand really should have been on her ass the whole time if she wasn't up for grabs.”

Pitt: “Whatever. We’re not going with them to Vlada, though.”

MicHELLe: “How about [falsetto] Pooooooosh!”

Me: “Oh, MicHELLe wanting to go to Posh. There’s headline news.”

The rest of The Crew dropped into Vlada for their other 15-minute open bar party while we passed the remains of my Gatorade bottle around and entered Posh. After another 20 minutes, the rest of the crew came in and crowded on the dance floor. I saw a golden opportunity... to be a good friend.

Me: “Hey, I can tell you don't wanna be here. How about No Parking!”

MicHELLe: “Definitely not me.”

Me: “Bitch, we know you ain’t leavin’ Hell’s Kitchen. I wasn’t talking to you!”

Bottomless Pitt: "Do you see what I'm wearing?! I'll get mugged on the train home!"

image borrowed from trouvais.com

Me: "As if. A) nobody's gonna fuck with you, and b) you're gonna sleep with a white guy who lives up there anyway! By the time you pull a coyote ugly, the trains will be running express. Tada! Besides, I need to drop off my bag at my place, so I can get you some pajama pants for the ride home."

Pitt: "Bitch. Let's go."

No Parking was full of it’s usual No-Parking-ness. We had a great time posing along the wall and dancing to familiar tunes. At one point, I was dancing to a salsa song, and an RG grabbed my hand and started dancing with me. I know the basic steps of salsa. And I took some swing in college (the class was only partially studio work... I haven’t taken PE since 8^th grade... as if!), which taught me lead-follow technique. But it’s totally different combining them... with a real person. She may have had to stop once or twice after a spin to figure out why I had changed directions, but on the whole, I was a pretty good leader.

Did I mention that I managed to escape a few minutes before they turned on the ugly lights (progress!)? Yeah.

Click here to check out Folsom St. East (a fetish festival), Beyoncé's concert, and Broadway Bares: all in the same day.

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