Everybody's workin' for the weekend...
This weekend by the numbers:
- Money spent= way too much (we're going to get a personal advisor to handle that from now on).
- Hours of sleep= 2 (as in far too little, having been woken up to find missing keys).
- Number of chicks passed out on the couch with me Friday night= 2
- Number of chicks I got action from Friday night= 0 - 2 (they're sleepers, these ones).
- Ounces of malt liquor consumed outside for the parade Saturday morning, 40, of course (St. Ides, I love you).
- Age of hot girl downstairs at Jillians= "24, but I'm engaged."
- Number of seconds it took me to eat the most breathtaking chicken sandwich ever, probably 24, and it was single (unless you count the fries it came with, in that case it was married, with fries).
- Number of doors broken by me= 1, but it was encouraged and a nice thing to do, in order to gain entrance.
Friday, Evening:
But let's get back to the matter at hand; Friday night was a card playing, whiskey drinking night. Roster of persons involved: Me, J. & C.B., Chad, Chrissie, Hollywood, Teal, and late arrivals that other girl, and Jenn, because she likes the couch or something like that, who knows.
So right now we'll do a real-time re-enactment (in words) covering a span of roughly 45 - 53 seconds (depending on how fast you read).
Teal starts telling a story about how she broke a bunch of shot glasses and a glass holder that they came in; I being the astute story chronicler that I am recognized a similar set in the other room, procured them, and then produced them, to her. Quickly I realized the mistake, and asked her to put them down, which she did, and then knocked her drink over, and then I dropped my pizza on the ground, and then she walked into the other room and the lid from the garbage can popped off and fell on the ground. Coincidence? Most likely.
So Teal is a rather terrible Mario Bros. 3 player, which needs to be noted because it appeared in all reality that Mario had lost the desire to live and was jumping into all open holes in the ground, only to be restored to health a short time into his past and realize he is once again in an existence that resembles hell, all because a certain girl has the paddle in her hand, and she's drunk.
Friday, late P.M.:
Cards were played, and team e-harmony won (Chad and Chrissie) which wasn't cool because that wasn't my team, and I like winning. So in the spirit of the continuity of a gambling theme it was decided that Acey-Deucey was the next order of business, and I got busted up multiple times, matching 5's on a King - 5 spread, on ten dollar bets (all you degenerates out there know what that means). This being so did not please me.
Sidetrack:
Originally I had vowed- under the guise of it being St. Patrick's day early- to not sleep and pull the old all-nighter, and of course that didn't happen, so I lost a bet, which sucks for me. Anyway, the night proceeds and 6 am gets to be on the clock, a good time to call it quits; and regret the decision which involved making plans for early the next morning. So I slept, on the floor, because if you were a drunk girl you were already asleep on the couch, and if you weren't, you got to sleep on the floor.
Keep in mind at this point that Teal works at Jillians, and had to be there stupidly early, so of course I was awoken by Teal who could not find her keys. Murphy's law dictated that they could only be found in one possible place being as it was so early: in the car, with the doors locked. Luckily I was not called in to action, lest the window pay the price for Teal's transgressions. Cooler heads prevailed at this point, and a phone was brought into use, and a price was quoted by a local locksmith, which was deemed unsatisfactory. So the young lady, being a discriminating shopper called a competing locksmith, and asked how much they charge to get into a locked car, because the other place was expensive. The young man on the other line at this point countered by explaining that he had in fact just talked to her a few moments ago, yet somehow agreed to knock 8 bucks off the deal, probably because he was embarrassed for her, which kinda worked out in the end. The moral of the story? Don't lock your keys in the car all the time, like somebody we know, because it's not cool to do, and being uncool sucks.
Saturday, Early A.M.:
Our intrepid band of travelers venture out into the lovely Saturday sunlight, and start walking towards a what may now be concluded to be fictitious bus-stop. Luckily Hollywood picked us up, which saved us a very real amount of walking to a fictional destination. Mid-town was where we got down, John and Chris joining some associates over at Cagney's, while I opted to join Chad, Chrissie, et al. over at the only bar in Albany without a sign advertising it's existence, of course this is my kind of place. The draft beer was flowing, and so was the urine from the establishment's more regular patrons; onto the floor, as well as into the "third toilet." Of course to yours truly's untrained eye the bathroom in question contained a mere two toilets. But I learned quickly from a helpful native that there were indeed three toilets in the bathroom in the bar with no name; there just isn't a sink, anymore, that I'll ever use the next time I go there. Because I'll be back damn it, those are my people.
Saturday, Early Afternoon: Quickie-Mart:
Nice place, we bought some 40's and John paid a dollar for the privilege of peeing in their bathroom, and with the number of sinks they had in that place, I bet they made a killing. So the parade was alright, there was a cool black lab puppy nearby, as well as a bunch of other dogs, they appeared to be Caucasian and college-aged; I enjoyed looking at all of them. Our next order of business was to make bitter faces and finish our beverages, by hook or by crook they were to be done, and they were. Afterwards we walked downtown, met some nice people, peed behind some dumpsters, and made it to Jillians.
Special note: A big Thank you to the nice lady who told Chris she wouldn't look if he watered her flowers for her.
Jillians was a nice atmosphere, Teal's friend made a bitchy face when I asked her where Teal was, and then John and Chris made similar faces whilst drinking Black and Tans. We met Dennis shortly thereafter, and hung out outside, being cool guys and talking to all of the random people that came through our stairway. The guy who kept saying "excoosie" when he'd walk through was pretty cool, good for a laugh.
Saturday, Evening, I think?:
In the words of Ashie D, McGuire's was the next place of business, Teal was once again in tow, we were 5 deep and off to McGeary's. Outside of this place was a lame line to get in, in an effort to circumvent the line John made a play and purchased a bunch of bracelets for re-entrance from some broad for roughly four or five cigarettes. The bouncer at the door was nice enough to inform us that they hadn't been using those bracelets "all day." The moral of the story? Lines aren't cool, back to Jillians.
Saturday Evening, I'm sure of it now:
Once again on the inside chicken sandwiches were ordered, and for the longest time I thought they were just rumors, they were real, and they were spectacular (as alluded to earlier in this posting).
Cool comments from some guy that was doing a solid job of busting John and Chris' balls:
- What you guys are too cool to wear Green on St. Patrick's day? Memo for next year, "try harder."
- Guy to John; "how old are you?" John; "22." Guy; "shit you're lucky, I'm engaged, you gotta party it up when you're young, throw parties where you have sand on your floor, a beach party, the girls dress up like hookers and everybody wins, the girls always go for it, it's great." John to girl who had just joined the conversation; "hey, would you come to our beach party and dress like that?" Girl; "I'm married."
- Other assorted cool stuff, I was too busy eating a chicken sandwich to really care.
At this point John boy and C.B. threw the towels in, and headed back to the Ponderosa and enjoy the 'Cuse game. Good game, cool shirt worn by G-Mac aftewards. Note to G-Mac, I have a hundred dollars riding on you being a good pro, so don't suck.
Teal, Dennis, and I then proceeded into the VIP section of Jillians, which is basically a roped-off section along the wall of the dance club. Some young lady was nice enough to pour drinks onto my pants, multiple times, so I was cool because I had peed my pants, by all appearances. Needless to say I was tipping the girls bringing me crappy drinks because they were good looking, which is a bad idea but that's how you gotta roll sometimes. Also I highly recommend hitting on girls because they look like other girls, just something to do when you're drunk and have wet pants on. And to the ladies: school-girl outfits= thumbs up, 24-7, 365 aka 'til the casket drops, so I was digging that, good work.
Sunday, Early A.M.:
Back to Teal's, only there's no way in, because the keys to the house were in the car, which was at Jillians, the key to the car? Given to Teal's friend, of course, anybody see a pattern developing yet? Well suffice to say I got to bust the door open, and this pleased me much, because doing stuff like that is cool, and Vito was there, Vito is a cool dog.
I like dogs, and alcohol, and attractive shot-girls, and being Irish, and school-girl outfits, and breaking stuff. See-ya next weekend, Irish weekend part II.
Parting Shots:
- I have a friend featured in the "Cool New People" section of Myspace.com, Does this make me cooler for knowing him? Does this make him cool? Or is it one of those opposite scenarios, whats the status here?
- If you ever get a chance to, vote Rob Davies. You'll know when, when the time is right.
- Girls with dogs are cooler than girls with cats, there is no debating this.
Comments