So at precisely 4 o'clock on Saturday afternoon, Mike J called me, his Official Back-up Date into service. A couple of weeks ago he had asked me to stand in in case his Date Who Shall Not Be Named flaked on him. Otherwise he would have had to pay his firehouse 70 bucks to cover the cost of a missing person. He said he'd be by to pick me up in two hours, which I took to mean "Sit around and do nothing for an hour and a half and then at 5:45 look at the clock and go AHHHHH!!!!!"
Supposedly the event was "top shelf open bar" but I'm skeptical of that. I was a bit hung over on Sunday even though I only had 7 or 8 drinks. That only happens when the liquor isn't (completely) top shelf. My stomach is a liquor snob.
The high point of dinner was our conversation with our friend Ron. Ron is a lot older than us... I'd say at least 30 or so years. But the guy gets mad play. Even from chicks MY age. So Mike J clues me in on the fact that Ron has banged a local mother-daughter team, banged the other chick's best friend, then almost hit on the best friend's mother. I was like "So pretty much you were loving the whole Viagra thing huh?" We said we'd bow to him if he could nail both chicks and both mothers simultaneously. Later on we wandered around and ended up crashing some bar mitzvah. We weren't invited or anything but Mike said that being Jewish WAS his invitation.
Mike said as a thank-you for my being such a gracious back-up date, he'd pay for me to re-pierce my nose. I said he didn't have to, but he insisted. So after the ball, I was feeling pretty nice, and suggested that we head over to a piercing place in the Village and get it done that night. So apparently I was definitely feeling nice, if by "nice" you mean totally gone.
We ended up at some piercing place on Sixth Ave and 4th Street. The top floor is a tattoo parlor and when you say you're there for piercing, they send you downstairs. You're a bit apprehensive heading down the stairs because you don't know what you'll find but when you get there it's even bigger than the top floor and there are like 15 other people getting piercings done too. Like some crazy holepunch drive-through.
Venus The Piercer began the preparations, all the while being a good sport about the fact that I was grilling her on sanitizing procedures. When the time came, she gripped the needle and my nostril, and I gripped some old man's hand who randomly happened to be sitting on a seat near me. Funny how such a memorable moment was shared with a complete stranger. Afterwards, Venus and I tried to get Mike to get a tattoo but he refused. Spoilsport. What's a little body art between friends?
So thanks for voting in my poll two months ago but I did it anyway.
We exited the parlor then stood around for awhile (I was chit-chatting with some crackheads) outside Mike's truck. The rest of our party was still at the reception hall for some reason. Spying a porn shop, we decided we should kill time in there. Or rather I decided and Mike had to come along because where else is he going to go. To make matters worse, I drunkenly bullied Mike into buying me a porn DVD, because all my porn was on tape. How last century. He said he didn't mind, it was fun listening to the "Siskel and Ebert porn reviews" given by the salesperson, who I was grilling about porn content.
"Is this real or soft shit? I won't want that soft Skinemax crap."
"Are the chicks hot?"
"Is there anal?"
Then of course I had to negotiate the guy down on price. I mean come on, it took some 10-year-old Honduran boy 2 minutes and 28 cents to make this DVD. The stars probably don't even get royalties. Charging 35 bucks for it is just highway porn robbery. After that we headed over to Culture Club to meet up with the rest of Mike's firemen buddies. I hadn't been there in 7 years. And for good reason apparently, damn that place blows. Oh well.
But last night was fun! Open bar, nose-piercing, porn, watching white people dance and Hop-Kee. Good times. Even though I was a mess today. Fucking well drinks. They should be outlawed.