This posting has been delayed due to the incredulity and hangover generated by the amount of fun I had on Monday night...
Every Monday, I go to tea with the girls at Saint's Alp Teahouse. We talk about the past week, the week to come, and possible events we might want to attend as a group in the weeks to follow.
Jo informs us on current events, Karen updates us on the latest fashion trends, Lauren supports all discussions with nuggets of market research statistics she's unearthed (one hazard of her job that we love!), Halle presents usually irrelevant anecdotal "evidence/advice" and I make light of it while occassionally interjecting social observations when advice is solicited.
Don't get me wrong, this is all VERY fun. But we've been doing it for five years; while our dynamic has grown comfortable over time it leaves a bit to be desired in the novelty dept. Plus a bunch of late 20's professional female domestic partners sipping tea on a weekly basis can only be SO much fun.
This week after tea, I joined Tommy and our Canadian college pal, who had his girlfriend in tow, for beer pong at Wickey Willy's in NYU-land (on Bleecker St.). I had relatively low expectations for such an evening and planned on only staying the obligatory hour to see my visitors and put in some long overdue face time with Tommy. The night had other plans for me.
What I misguidedly assumed to be Halloween decorations were simply pirate-themed bar accoutrements. After my first $1 draft I began to see the charm of it all.
Tommy's love-of-the-moment, Tessie, made my night. She insisted we form a team, girl power induced camraderie, which I was forced to name. Inspired by the girl pirate's disproportionate rear in the poster above the bar, I suggested Pirate's Booty and we were off to the races.
Tessie, a 22-year-old, blonde, aspiring actress who lives with her parents in Staten Island, worked the room. She charmed every duo in sight into buying us beer. I could afford the hefty $1/beer price tag but it was amazing to see her in action and I could hardly refuse no-strings-attached-beer buying. In an effort to boost team spirit and through no actual suggestion of mine Tactylius (the band whose members were handing out flyers for their upcoming show bought me shots which I happily included Tess on)--apparently they want me to be one of their promoters given my energy and enthusiasm for their unheard album--so I proceeded to hand out their flyers with greater zest than a street vendor hawking perishables.
The particular team of most interest to Tess, I nicknamed "Hat Boys!"--one was wearing a baseball cap with no identifying logo and the other donned a knit, ski cap (he had an Orlando Bloom thing going on)--they kept attempting to get us to lower ourselves to their level of lewd humor and general jackassery. We refused. Finally, what I can assume to be only out of sheer frustation, Baby Bloom threw his orange ping pong ball at my beer as I sat sedately at the bar a few feet away from the tournament table. Of course, in his inebriated state he missed and hit my head instead. Much to Tessie's chagrin and my surprise, he bounded over to apologize but instead of uttering words that might redeem his doing he grabbed my face between his malodorous cigarrette fingers and proceeded to press his lips against mine.
I pulled away and pushed him hard hoping to knock him into the closest table but he was steadier on his feet than I gave him credit for being. He smiled smugly and proceeded to walk away. This kind of brazen behavior would have been excused sans explanation was I still a single woman, but that I am no longer. So I sought to seek revenge for his un-welcome advances--revenge which left unattained.
Another team who befriended us: "Buble Blows"--which sweet Tess assumed was a misspelling of "Bubble Blows" when in fact it pertained to the memebers' disdain for Canadian singer, Michael Buble--comprised of an adorable stylist and her best friend/brotherly figure. They proceeded to verbally berate the offender of my honor. Buble Boy offered to give Baby Bloom a swirly much to the shrieks of delight and horror of the bystanding girls! While I appreciated his act of chivalry, I assured him that no heads needed to be inserted into toilets on my behalf--at least not yet.
Incidentally, Buble Boy fancied me. When I departed from the main room to play pong in the practice room with my Canadian compatriots he quickly joined us and shyly made plays to attract my attention while generally gawking. I quickly explained the existence of D'Souza and released him to the few drunken girls that lined the bar. I suppose a wiser woman would have suspected given his outrage at Bloom Junior's behavior but I am not one to jump the gun, especialy in the boy likes THIS girl dept.
The 20something, New York equivalent of Cheers, Wickey Willy's gets my seal of approval and undoubted return customership. I had so much fun and met more new people than I have all year. With the exception of the unwanted overture which added event to the evening it was unendingly fun and wantonly freeing. For $1 I enjoyed more laughs and beer than ever before--college included.
I know Sweet reader, things like this should be expected at a college haunt, but I attended Nerd Central and was wholly unprepared for this average undertaking.
