Saturday, April 22, 2006

LADIES LOVE ME, GIRLS ADORE ME

Last night I totally duded out with my friend Jackie! We're both sort of tired of our respective scenes and want to expand them, so we decided to go to this loft party on Wooster where Qtip was "spinnin'" and Bacardi was "flowin'" and the doorman was "chargin" $20. Hey, we reasoned, it's OPEN-BAR! That alone is worth $20. Let's DO IT!

First, though, we hung out in Jackie's apartment drinking what we both acknowledged to be "single-girl red wine". SGRW is basically that "extra" bottle of inexpensive, inoffensive Cabernet/Shiraz mix that an unpaired lady will pick up knowing that, at some point, she's probably going to drink it alone. While watching The Cat Channel. Okay, it's NOT THAT PATHETIC, but one day it could be, which is why Jackie and I were totally drinking her bottle of SGRW to encourage ourselves to go to some loft dance party that neither one of us had any real interest in going to.

"We should go to this thing."
"Yeah, totally."
"Yeah, we'll meet new people."
"Yeah. Totally. We should meet people."
"Yeah."
"Yeah."
"Do you want some more wine?"
"Totally."

After we finished the wine and our delightful conversation, we agreed we should probably leave her apartment. Because as much fun as it was, we really weren't going to meet people inside of it.

"What do you think?"
"I could go or not go. Either way."
"Yeah, me too."
"$20 isn't THAT much."
"True."
"Hey. Corner Bistro is right there."
"They have cheap beer."
"And people!"
"Let's go there!"

So we skipped the loft party and went to Corner Bistro, which smells like bacon (BONUS!) and is known for having one of the best burgers in New York City (DOUBLE BONUS!). Jackie ran into her cousin and had an awkward conversation with her while I scoped seats and found two at the bar. We ordered two $2.50 beers and watched as paper plates filled with the crispiest, most delicious-looking french fries got passed across the bar. And let's not even get into the glistening bacon cheeseburgers that floated around the room and were plopped, unceremoniously, onto tables. Those things ARE CRAZY! They are so incredibly gorgeous that they would make Wimpy's head explode on contact. Thank goodness Wimpy is a fictional character from Popeye.

Jackie and I drank our beers and decided, after only 15 minutes but what felt like an excruciating amount of discipline, to order some fries, well-done. The bartender, who must have been in his 60's, and who also must have been interested in getting sexed by two women, flirted heavily. Mostly with Jackie. I didn't mind. When the fries arrived they were everything I've ever dreamed french fries should be: thin, perfectly crisp, with the slight aroma of bacon grease, and HOT. We salted, peppered, and ketchuped them, and then ate the shit out of them. A group standing behind us at the bar also ordered fries, but made the mistake of not asking for them well-done. They still looked good when they were placed DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF ME AND JACKIE, but NOT AS GOOD AS OURS. Speaking of ours: they were gone. Which was a sad fact, indeed. No one seemed to be eating the NEW fries in front of us, so Jackie did. I stole a couple. The bartender stole one. The group didn't seem to notice. We ordered some more beer.

Then something odd happened. The bartender placed a shot in front of me and said "From a secret admirer." ACK! WHAT?! My first thought was "Is this craggy old bartender the 'secret admirer'?" And my second thought was "Did this craggy old bartender roofie this drink?" I don't go out to bars much, OKAY?!

"Who's it from?" Jackie asked the bartender.
"It's a SECRET admirer," he said.
"What IS it?" I asked.
"A Kamikaze."
I pretended to know what that was and just sort of looked at it. I looked at Jackie. I looked around the room. I became very nervous. Now I felt like someone was looking at me, and I didn't know who it was. I avoided the shot and drank my beer. I told Jackie to take the first sip. She did. Then I sipped it. It tasted like vanilla and lime, and was pretty gross.

The bartender placed a beer in front of Jackie. "That one's from me," he said, winking at her. I wasn't jealous at all but instead admired Jackie's ability to attract appropriate attention from the opposite sex. I avoided looking around the room in case my "admirer" was watching me. It made me very uncomfortable. After a while the bartender noticed, because he said, "I'll tell you this. It's not NECESSARILY from a guy."

!!!

Jackie started laughing. "Who's it from?!"
"Come on," I said, "Spill."
The bartender got close and said, "Look. I don't think they're still here, but it was from a couple. But they weren't a couple. Two gays. A lesbian and a gay guy. I think they left, though."

!!!

Wow. WOW! Okay, first: what's up with the bartender referring to them as "two gays"? Weird, right? And next: WHY were they buying me a shot?! Don't people buy other people shots so that they can have sex with them? But a lesbian and a gay dude are the two kinds of people I am MOST unlikely to have sex with! Well, they are a few rungs above A Racist or A Child, but still...AM I SO NAIVE?!

Yes. Yes, I am.

I wish I could have met them and asked them what their deal was. Or, "What do you admire about me?" That would have been a FASCINATING conversation.

At least now I know that I don't like Kamikazes. It's good to learn stuff.

1 Comments:

Blogger Ross White said...

The lesbian and the gay dude later went home with Q-Tip. For reals.

7:59 PM  

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