WELL, OBVIOUSLY my best gift of the season was when my cousin’s baby started to clap just like I’d been teaching him, but other than that, last night at Narrow Lounge also had some serious highlights. To wit:
- No fewer than 5 guys (maybe more - I lost count) rocking a sweet Ryan Goslingy steez with the vest + tie combo. (We will also accept the variation employing cardigans.)
- Old friends reminding me of our first new years’ together, ten years ago, and correctly noting how hot we both still look.
- Asking about old friends I haven’t seen in ages and being told they are “looking great” and “doing well”.
- Old friends introducing me to new friends with very kind adjectives that include words like “funniest”.
- Old friends who treat me like family and make sure my drinks are always taken care of.
- Second winds.
- Singing along with pretty much every tune the DJs played (which reminds me, off to download the FUCK out of this bad boy).
- Deadpanning to the dude in the tux & tails with full white tie rigout that he might have to leave because I intended to be the best dressed person there.
- Watching all 3 bartender gals (some of the aforementioned old friends) climb up on the bar in their matching sequins and dance to We Luv Deez Hoez while the bar serenaded them.
- Kicking 2010 in its fucking ass with sexy people that are nice.
- Making it home intact with money, drugs and booze left over, and much less of a hangover than the day before. (That is how you do THAT, kids. Always good to start off the new year with a Hez Pro-tip.)
- Seriously, when I say I have booze left over, some chicks gave me a little airplane bottle of Cherry Kirsch, of all things.
- TOTAL ROCK STAR CAB ACQUISITION (INCLUDING RANDOM GROUPIE): i.e. found a taxi seconds after exiting the bar, and as we sped away, there was suddenly some lovelorn girl standing there crying on the sidewalk. Probably not even about me, but it fits the vibe, so we’re going with “jerk store”.
Things for which I did not care:
- Many menz haz a lady. So many.
- Cheap pharmaceuticals = stinky bathrooms. 2011 could use a little work on its aromas is all I’m saying.
- BACKPACKS! PEOPLE! TAKE THEM OFF! I don’t want that up in my biznass at a place where small is in the name. Besides, we want to see your vests and cardigans!
- Ripped sleeves on your shirt are not a vest. And when your forearm tattoo is that large and shitty, sleeves are really not something you should be forsaking in a dating environment. I’m sure your mom or cousin could sew them back on for you.
- Creepy buff guy who was standing at the bar one minute, then when I came back in from smoking a joint, was suddenly DEVOURING the face of this short-haired blonde girl that had been sitting across the room from him. It went on for so long, people commented that he might be a vampire, and I began to think the girl might be an ice skater after the way she wrapped one leg around him, extended the other with pointed toe, and let him lift her off the ground. They left together, obviously, with sassy gay friend (whom buff guy was suddenly about to have zero in common with) in tow.
All in all, good times, and woke up to a confetti cannon and a relatively clear head.