I feel that it is only fair to update all on my not too destructive behavior over the "Weekend o' Love" and I was even anti-destructive in one way.So as mentioned before, my beloved Spaz made the trek down to the 'Big Apple' for some bonding time with yours truly, a lil' touristing and of course, a lil' debauchery. She arrived Friday late afternoon in time to get ready for night #1 of shenanigans. As we got ready we took part in some imbibing on Vodka Sodas. Once primmed and pretty for the evening we set out for some din din. We enjoyed a delish meal at Diablo Royale. We shared four taco creations and each had two of their infamous 'Ricky's'. Feeling full but buzzed, I took her out in the Village.
We hit up the Peculiar Pub (peculiarly becoming a new fave stop due to bartender Stephanie). Upon entering we were asked for our ids (god bless) and the bouncer of course had to comment, "What are you ladies up to tonight other than breaking hearts?" Good one! That was original...After rolling our eyes, we made our way into the bar observing that we probably have 10 years on the majority of the crowd.... Hoping to overcome this 'obstacle' we order up a couple beers and try to make the most of it. Spaz makes a pitstop at the ladies which leaves me time to see if there is any way we can salvage this 'amatuer night.' After hearing some girl cackle louder than a rooster, I tell Spaz its time to move on, sorry bartender Stephanie.
Next stop, 1/2 Pint. Same situation, damn NYU! In attempts of creating some interest in the evening, I whip out the good ol' blackberry and text 'little brother.' Of course he responds and of course he is at his usual watering hole. Spaz and I suck down our brewskis and grab a cab. Spaz is intrigued to meet little brother since she has heard/read the stories. We get there and wouldn't you know, he was being a jerkface. Apparently him and his two friends have something against the Irish and against the fact that I am Irish (BTW, we were at an Irish pub!). For some annoying reason, this keeps coming up in conversation. After all this, some blonde chick shows up at lil' brother's request. Spaz and I take the que, grab pizza, a cab and call it a night.
Next morning, first order of business; delete little brother from my phone, COMPLETELY (meaning not just saved number but all old texts and incoming/outgoing phone calls). Yes, despite the 'fun' that had existed previously, him treating me like dirt is not something I am going to tolerate, for what 'fun' is that???
After some much needed Starbucks, we assemble ourselves for the day. Spaz whips out a pair of brown boots that look worse than a homeless woman's (toe completely worn through, heel worn through to the point that the nail was more of a heel than the actual heel!). I decide first order of business is to find this girl an acceptable pair of boots! You would think this wouldn't be too difficult due to the fact that it is still winter, it is after Christmas so the prices have to be good and we're in New York City....NOT-SO-MUCH! After a failed attempt, we decide to proceed on to our 'cultural' activity of the day and make our way to the Upper East Side to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
We spent a good portion of the day making our way through corridor after corridor observing the statues of the Greek and Roman era, than onto paintings from Van Gogh and then onto what I couldn't wait for, the Temple of Dendur (that wing is so frickin' cool!). As we made our way through the museum we passed couple upon couple, some looking rather oddly paired up (Oh yes! It's Valentine's Day! Don't look single, we'll be stoned!) After our cultural experience, I feel its only fitting due to the fact we are on the Upper East Side, that we reward ourselves at one of my beloved bars, Doc Watson's.
We make our way there and find ourselves a couple stools at the corner of the bar. Having been a frequent patron back in the days that I lived on the Upper East Side, I knew the bartenders. Our intentions had been to go for only 'a couple' drinks but a 'couple' turned into four(?). After countless drinks and making friends with a man in his 30s from Indianapolis in NYC for the first time ever for buisness, we contact our friend from home who's friends are having a bar crawl properly titled, 'Forget about Cupid, Let's all get Stupid,' on the lower east side. We pay up to the sweet Irishmen, tell Mr. Indianapolis to go to Bro Jos to hit on 23 year olds while saying he too is 23, then make our way down to the crawl.
We make it to pretty much all the bars on the list and it becomes clear our dear friend needs to make an exit and his way home. Spaz and I, having built our tolerance the night before, are not ready to quit so I take her to my beloved Pete's Tavern (go ahead, start making fun but this place is the bomb diggs!) We make friends with the bartender (of course). Before I do anything I'm going to regret, Spaz tells me we should call it a night, so we do and end the evening having been mildly destructive, if at all.
So, not as destructive as you would have thought, huh? I am pretty impressed with my behaviors over the weekend. I finally came to the end of one of my destructive paths (lil' brother) and even heard 'reasoning' when being swayed away from another destructive path (Pete's tavern bartender). Sorry if my weekend bore you but I feel rather positive Polly that I may be learning....NAAAAAH!
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