Scenes From a Bar: You Are Not the Boss of Me

Friday night, I went out with Kelly, Maureen and Gail. Eventually, Kelly and I were lucky enough to be interrupted by the guy next to us and his bizarre friend. I'm thankful though, or I would have gotten to participate in the following conversation. Behold:

Guy that I'm not even remotely interested in: What are you drinking?
Me: Bud Light
G: Can I buy you one?
M: No, thanks. I'm good.
G: Why aren't you drinking wine?
M: Because I wanted Bud Light.
G: Why don't you try a nice Cabernet?
M: Because I am drinking Bud Light.
G: Cosmos are good. Why don't you have a cosmo?
M: I don't want a cosmo. I am happy to drink Bud Light. What do you care?
G: You shouldn't drink domestic beer. You should drink imported beer. Have you tried Stella Artois?
M: I have and I didn't like it. (Editor's note: I'm not sure I've ever tried Stella Artois but that really wasn't the point - especially not this deep into the conversation.) I like to buy American.
G: Domestic beer is only about $6 for a six-pack. Imported beer is twice that. Why don't you let me buy you an import?
M: Who buys six-packs? I don't want an import. I like Bud Light. Why don't you buy me a Bud Light and give me the cash difference?
G: That's funny. Just for that, I'm buying you a Bud Light.
(Editor's note: He also offers to buy Kelly a drink and then tries to backtrack when she orders later. We do not let him get away with it.)

Fast-forward a bit - he interrupts our conversation yet again, so that we can have this exchange.

G: Where would you go on your dream vacation?
M: I don't know. I've always wanted to go to Germany so I think there.
G: Where in Germany?
M: Well, my cousin is near Frankfurt so probably there.
G: Oh no. Frankfurt is the financial city - you don't want to go there.
M: So, let me get this straight. You ask me what I'm drinking, and then proceed to tell me why I'm wrong to be drinking it. Then you ask me where I want to go on my dream vacation and proceed to tell me why I don't want to go there. Um, I have a list of people who are the boss of me - and you are nowhere near on that list.
G: I was just offering my opinion.
M: But I didn't ask your opinion on where I should go on my dream vacation. But thank you for your concern.

He then proceeded to tell me that I wouldn't be allergic to his cats. I guess he is very familiar with my medical history and also an allergy specialist of some sort. Jerk. He still didn't go away nearly soon enough, but eventually he did. Hard to believe, but I let that one get away.

My Apartment is Palatial But Still Not Meant to House Four Women (and Culture Corner: Review of Wicked)

What happens when you cram four vivacious women into a one-bedroom apartment into Queens? You end up with more good times and laughs than you ever imagined possible. My mom, Aunt Carol and Tiffany all came to visit a couple weeks ago and while the weekend wasn't without a couple speed bumps (Tiff's flight into NYC was diverted to an air force base for an hour or so while LGA made room for them to land; Carol's return flight was canceled), but overall we had much more fun than we had any business having.

We kicked off the weekend with five kinds of mac and cheese from S'mac. Buffalo chicken (of course), garden lite, classic, Mediterranean and a make-your-own with cheddar, pepper jack and tomatoes. After we had a good base coat in our stomachs, we headed to my neighborhood bar and ordered a tower of beer. Clocking in at 116 oz, Carol didn't think we'd be able to finish it. Um, yeah. She was dead wrong. We made pretty quick work of it and Tiffany and I kept going once it was gone. Eventually, we took our mothers home, tucked them in and headed back out. Cause we are champs like that. I let Tiffany talk me into not one, but two shots and we ate more food and then we headed back by 4 AM.

Up at 8:30 the next morning, and not feeling nearly as hungover as I expected to, we got ready to head to Wicked. Which, y'all? See it. Two or three times. It's a true Broadway production, with all the bells and whistles, but also with an excellent story and a ridiculously strong and talented cast. After the show, we went to Roy's Restaurant and had a decadent and delicious meal including my new favorite - the blood orange martini. Yum and yum.

Everyone was supposed to leave on Sunday, but only Mom (who was traveling by train) was able to really leave. Tiffany and Carol were stuck with me for one more night, which was kind of nice because it gave Tiffany and I some more time for girl talk, which we both really needed.

Photos below. I did my best to put them in order, but you'll see the ones from Friday night are definitely a little bit out of order - there was only one tower of beer, not two.

Scenes from a Bar: I Wouldn't Say I Have High Standards, But I Do Like My Suitors to Have All of Their Teeth

I continued my Reintroduction to Society Summer Tour on Saturday night at my new favorite bar in my neighborhood. It's a totally awesome pub, with excellent bar food and even when it's crowded there's still room to breathe. I went with a couple girls that I work with - one of them started chatting up a guy sitting next to her so the other girl and I were chit-chatting, drinking beer and half-watching the sports on TV. So at some point, this guy who'd been standing next to me asks me to watch his drink so he could go outside and smoke. So I say sure and he says "thanks. don't spit in it." Which, okay. But did he really feel like he needed to add that part? And if he was afraid I'd spit in it, why'd he ask me to watch it in the first place? But at any rate, he came back and started talking to me and the girl that I work with. Here's the general conversation:

Guy: What do you do?
Me: I work for the man.
Guy: Doing what?
Me: Making sure candy bars are artfully arranged on tables.
Guy: You're funny.
Me: I'm not kidding.
Guy: Where's your boyfriend?
Me: I wish I knew.
Guy: I like your haircut. Will you watch my drink again?
Me: Sure.
Me to girl I work with: Is he missing teeth?
Girl I work with: Oh, most definitely.
Me: Awesome.
Guy: Where's your boyfriend?
Me: Still not sure.
Guy: You're funny. Can I have your number?
Me: I'm not giving my number out this evening.
Guy: You're evil. But you're funny. I like you. Can I get your number?
Me: I'm not giving out my number.
Guy: Can I give you my number?
Me: You can give it to me, but I'm not going to call it.
Guy: You're evil. But at least you're honest.
Me: Yep.
Guy: I've been in jail.
Me: Huh.
Guy: So why can't I give you my number?
Me: I told you - you can. I'm just not going to call it.
Guy: Why not?
Me: Cause I'm looking for a silver fox.
Guy: Yo, are you serious?
Me: Yep. As serious as I am about anything else I've said tonight.
Guy: Why would you say that?
Me: Why wouldn't I say that? I would make an excellent second wife for some guy who already has kids and a good job.
Guy: You're evil. Can I give you my number?
Me: I gotta go.

Now frankly, even if he had all his teeth, this would not have been a boy for me. But that certainly didn't help his cause. Oh well. The Reintroduction to Society Summer Tour continues with a couple different outings this week so stay tuned for the next installment!