So, about once a year, generally the weekend prior to the Super Bowl my parents have sex. Yeah, I know, but I'm old enough where the thought only keeps me awake for a week or so, instead of the recurrent nightmares that used to occur when my mom would make her announcement. Oh, yeah, she announces it. It started because my dad has a Super Bowl party every year and he and his friends basically trash the house and get drunk out of their minds. So, in return for his outlandish behavior (although my mom has been known to join in the outlandish behavior) he usually takes my mom out to someplace where they actually don't have paper napkins and where he actually has to wear something other than boxer shorts or sweats.
Well, last week my mom told me the big night was Friday night, so I had to find other things to do that night. Why I needed to be out of the house and what they could possibly be doing that requires my presence outside of the basement or the house is not a thought I care to relish. So, I did what any person would do in that situation, I decided to call some friends to see if they wanted to go out. The next thing I knew there were ten of us meeting at Geisha House on Friday night. As you can see from the photo above, three of the blog's contributors (ZX-Dominique Swain, WD/America Young, and Adrianna Costa) decided that an evening spent with me dodging passes and letting me eat off their plates was not a truly awful thing to contemplate. I also think they probably had nothing else to do and knew I would pick up the check. Plus, it is always fun to watch a fat man drink.
The night started out well enough. Everyone made sure I sat in between America and Adrianna because they seem to be the only ones who truly don't mind sharing their food with me and also can understand me when I am drunk which makes things slightly easier.
About six or seven tables away there was a woman sitting there that one guest was convinced was "somebody." At various points throughout the evening everyone took a walk past to see if they recognized her. No one did despite the protestations of the original person who claimed it was "somebody." We ventured it was someone from The City or something like that. At one point ZX excused herself and we decided to ask our waiter, who was waiting on that table if he knew who the woman at the table was, and he said no. He said that there was no one downstairs who was a "somebody" that night. At that point someone pointed to ZX's empty seat and said that Lolita was sitting there. He said, "That's Dominique Swain? I was in Lolita with her. I played a waiter who served her in the movie." Apparently the irony of life imitating art did not reach his head, but they did have a nice talk when she came back.
After dinner, some of us decided to continue drinking. The wise ones took off knowing this was going to end in disaster. They have been out with me before when I quote from Four Weddings And A Funeral and say, "might as well see if we can push through to dawn."
So, three of us decided to go over to the Pig and Whistle to drink and to rustle up some more friends. Five drinks later and they showed up. We then had two more drinks and staggered over to Boulevard 3. At that point, the night began to blur, but I do know there were many more drinks and a bartender who looked ready to cut me off. So, I did what any guy in my situation would do. I moved to another bar.
Well the now five of us were in no condition to drive. Wasn't going to happen. The guy at the door said it would take about 30 minutes for a cab and then there was the problem of how many cabs. No problem I said. So, I did what any guy does who lives at home with his parents. I called my dad who was also too drunk to drive, but my sainted mom came out in the mini-van and took us all to each of our respective homes while sharing with us in great detail about her night with my dad. So much for that pleasant drunk feeling. And no, I haven't slept well since.