Well, last night sure was interesting to say the least. It started with my trip to Prospect Park to see the Cold War Kids perform for free. There, I met up with my sister and some of her friends.
Needless to say, I didn't have enough Brooklyns in me to make the Cold War Kids all that enjoyable. I mean, my sister yells at me for my taste in music, but this band sounded excessively mediocre.
After the show, they split on their bikes. Speaking of which, what the hell is up with the bike fetish nowadays? My sister and her friends spent way too much time looking and admiring other people's bikes, like some sort of bike porn.
Anyway, I ended up at the Brooklyn Burger Bar, my former place of employment, and ended up having some drinks and chatting up the new staff. I felt bad though- some random guy that started talking to me stiffed the bartender on like a 40 dollar bill. Not fucking cool. Me? I tipped one dollar on every drink I bought and two dollars on the first. So of course the tender complains to me about it...whatever-she was pretty cute.
And then I stumbled home.
On a separate note, the title of this post comes from one of the new Gaslight Anthem tracks of which I've managed to sneak a listen. Holy shit is this album going to be great. Here's a video of the title track from out West:
Showing posts with label bar. Show all posts
Showing posts with label bar. Show all posts
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
I might be dying but I'm not dead yet
So this weekend happened.
But it didn't really.
As I'm driving to Eric's to get in his car and go down to Binghamton, he calls to tell me that the crew coming up from the city has been snowed off the roads and therefore would not be coming.
Jess would not be there.
Not that I was excited, but I sang loudly and talked copiously on the four hour drive down. Which, by the way, was awesome. We just rocked out and talked about old times, women and our inability to understand them, and about how awesome the weekend would be.
We get to Binghamton and the first thing out of Eric's mouth is "I fuckin' hate this place." We were home. We see Zack and Moshe right away. We catch up with Hagerbaumer and the Wongn8tor (aka Wong) and are just totally stoked to be at a concert and not have to work.
Once we get to the Events Center, it's a whirlwind of saying hi and catching up. All four production managers were in attendance, so there's an awesome picture out there. We basically bumped into Against Me! and Dave Grohl a few times; I even watched Serj from System of a Down walk in on some dude taking a leak while wearing a top hat. I never thought my college education would give me that experience.
We ate Nirchi's Pizza and were able to get back stage. I saw so many old friends and got to talk to some people about the open Late Nite coordinator position that I am applying for. I saw BSSL still alive and in capable hands (although I'm sure Moshe disagrees and would like to still be in control).
Eric and I went drinking with Wong and ended up at the Rat. No, I don't know why, because that place is a shit hole. Eric and I split from Wong and went to Pepe's for the best awful meatball subs of all time. It was vacation, so I housed on a meatball sub with nacho cheese. My body hates me still, but it was worth it for the total Binghamton experience.
he next day we were up early and on the road hopeful of hitting up the Bedouin Soundclash show in Buffalo that evening. Instead, it was sold out and we went to a bar to watch the end of the Rangers game (except I'm in Buffalo, so I had to pretend not to be happy when they beat the Sabres) where the tender was awesome and played some Flogging Molly. We then hit up another bar but by that time, I was beat. Next thing I know I'm in bed and it's Sunday morning.
I need more weekends like that.
But it didn't really.
As I'm driving to Eric's to get in his car and go down to Binghamton, he calls to tell me that the crew coming up from the city has been snowed off the roads and therefore would not be coming.
Jess would not be there.
Not that I was excited, but I sang loudly and talked copiously on the four hour drive down. Which, by the way, was awesome. We just rocked out and talked about old times, women and our inability to understand them, and about how awesome the weekend would be.
We get to Binghamton and the first thing out of Eric's mouth is "I fuckin' hate this place." We were home. We see Zack and Moshe right away. We catch up with Hagerbaumer and the Wongn8tor (aka Wong) and are just totally stoked to be at a concert and not have to work.
Once we get to the Events Center, it's a whirlwind of saying hi and catching up. All four production managers were in attendance, so there's an awesome picture out there. We basically bumped into Against Me! and Dave Grohl a few times; I even watched Serj from System of a Down walk in on some dude taking a leak while wearing a top hat. I never thought my college education would give me that experience.
We ate Nirchi's Pizza and were able to get back stage. I saw so many old friends and got to talk to some people about the open Late Nite coordinator position that I am applying for. I saw BSSL still alive and in capable hands (although I'm sure Moshe disagrees and would like to still be in control).
Eric and I went drinking with Wong and ended up at the Rat. No, I don't know why, because that place is a shit hole. Eric and I split from Wong and went to Pepe's for the best awful meatball subs of all time. It was vacation, so I housed on a meatball sub with nacho cheese. My body hates me still, but it was worth it for the total Binghamton experience.
he next day we were up early and on the road hopeful of hitting up the Bedouin Soundclash show in Buffalo that evening. Instead, it was sold out and we went to a bar to watch the end of the Rangers game (except I'm in Buffalo, so I had to pretend not to be happy when they beat the Sabres) where the tender was awesome and played some Flogging Molly. We then hit up another bar but by that time, I was beat. Next thing I know I'm in bed and it's Sunday morning.
I need more weekends like that.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
What you shouldn't do at the bar
Saturday night I head out with Eric, his roommate and one of their law school friends. We are all in need of a detox style night where we just relax. Relax we did, as Eric an I spent a good portion of the time being immature and making jokes about Oregon State. We have nothing against the school, but being stressed out graduate students, we decided to make dumb jokes centered around the school's mascot and basketball. I won the evening with "That Beaver's fouled out."
Did I mention we are both exhausted students?
So the fourth member of our party strikes up conversation with two women next to us at the bar. After brief conversation, one starts dancing on me. No offense to her, but she wasn't my type. However, I dance back a little, and then Eric whispers something implying a past experience of mine and this woman. I promptly have an attack of the laughs and fall down, seating myself on the foot rest bar and laughing while this random woman stares at me. By the time I make it back to my feet, she asks me, very plainly "You're not a virgin, are you?"
I thought once I left college, that question would stop. Apparently I was wrong. It was if she felt that she was so "hot," that her mere presence was making me uncomfortable. That wasn't the case- I just didn't want to dance with you. Sorry.
However, I thought the fourth member of our party was taken, so I took her hand on my rear as some drunk flirting. Guess who was wrong. I'm not saying it was anything other than being drunk, but sometimes, it's nice to dream.
Did I mention we are both exhausted students?
So the fourth member of our party strikes up conversation with two women next to us at the bar. After brief conversation, one starts dancing on me. No offense to her, but she wasn't my type. However, I dance back a little, and then Eric whispers something implying a past experience of mine and this woman. I promptly have an attack of the laughs and fall down, seating myself on the foot rest bar and laughing while this random woman stares at me. By the time I make it back to my feet, she asks me, very plainly "You're not a virgin, are you?"
I thought once I left college, that question would stop. Apparently I was wrong. It was if she felt that she was so "hot," that her mere presence was making me uncomfortable. That wasn't the case- I just didn't want to dance with you. Sorry.
However, I thought the fourth member of our party was taken, so I took her hand on my rear as some drunk flirting. Guess who was wrong. I'm not saying it was anything other than being drunk, but sometimes, it's nice to dream.
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