Several weeks ago, as we lounged around the living room on a Saturday afternoon, a friend of mine suddenly jumped up off the couch and proclaimed that it was time to drink. He’s not prone to these kinds of impulsive acts of inebriation, so I think we were all inclined to indulge him. An hour later, we were sitting around the otherwise empty bar at the Royale, in a race against time to get hammered before the sun set on Brooklyn.
Since then, the Saturday afternoon bar crawl has become somewhat of a standard around our house. A rotating crowd accompanies our core group to the bar, where we alternate between something called “The Sporting Life” (comprised of one shooter of Wild Turkey and a Miller High Life served in a champagne flute), “Jamaican bicycles,” and “mixed metaphors.” Okay, I made that last one up, but the other two are real, and they get you drunk very quickly.
The nice thing about getting drunk this early in the evening is that I’m ready go go home by eleven. Being home so early means getting to bed well before four in the morning, which translates to not losing my entire Sunday to a horrible hangover. The downside… well, having been drunk for several hours by midnight just makes me feel old. Or alcoholic. I’m not sure which is worse.
Hard-hitting images of poverty on the Upper East |
On another note, I just saw the new Woody Allen film tonight. The film itself was fine, but I found that the story was almost overshadowed by the real estate. I guess there’s just something about people living in opulent loft apartments complaining about how broke they are that I find offensive. If they’re broke, then Park Slope is a third-world nation. And seriously, who in their right mind is going to believe that the guy playing the piano at your fancy Upper East Side soirée is going to have a top floor, 2000 sf apartment with a patio deck and a view of the Empire State Building? I smell “residual income.”
Is this how the rest of the country thinks we live? That kid with designs on being a struggling actor in New York City is going to be in for a big surprise when the broker shows them that “partially finished one bedroom garden level” in “Williamsburg” for just $1400 a month.
Five random quotes taken out of context:
1. [I removed this one. As if you care.]
2. Woooooow. Nose rings and kitty cats!
3. Don’t waste my mustache.
4. [Yeah. This one too. Use your imagination or something.]
5. You gotta check out this new Blues Traveller album.
One Comment
Hey, that looks like my apartment.
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