On Friday night me, Tony and Eric headed over to Rumor for our friend Allan's birthday party. I had fun but I really don't miss club life. It's just so skeevy. While drying my hands in the bathroom and listening to the fat Mexican attendant hit on everyone with the same corny lines, I just thought to myself "I'm 28 years old, what am I doing in a fricken co-ed bathroom?" I was at the perfect level of buzzed though. I stuck to SoCo and lime shots all night so I never got drunk but wasn't too sober to enjoy myself. I'm not going to lie, in my early twenties I had fun just being there. In my late twenties, I need to be liquored up to have a good time in a loud NYC club.
The funniest part of the night came when I headed outside to have a smoke. I ended up chit-chatting with a pretty cool guy who moved here from Australia (thought I could pick up another displaced Aussie friend for Steve) and his friend walked up. The friend was mildly annoying but tolerable. After awhile though I started looking for ways to escape the conversation. So I bust out pictures of my kids, hoping to bore the guy into walking away. He looks closely at Geo In The Picture and says he thinks he knows him. He peruses some more until it gets even more annoying and I start getting impatient.
Guy: I think I know your husband.
Me: What, did he bang your sister?
He got his panties in a bunch after that and huffed away. I mean serious bunching. I actually had to laugh out loud. I sometimes forget that not everyone would get that joke (there was a time when it seemed like every guy Geo introduced me to, he knew because he banged the guy's sister and she introduced them.) Oh well, I thought it was funny and that's really all that matters. My friends Artie and Eric asked what I was laughing about and when I told them, they were like let's go kick his ass. As if they were suggesting we pick up some Gray's Papaya afterwards or something. Crazy guys.
On Saturday, we putzed around the house. Did nothing productive, but that's Saturday for you. On Sunday we met up with Paul, his wife Jamie and their son Jake and headed over to Jenkinson's Aquarium in Point Pleasant. It was pretty cool there. I mean the aquariums in California are better of course, but if you're fiending for an aquarium visit it gives you a good fix. And the the girls had fun looking at the penguins. I'd want one, but then I'd probably accidentally kill it like I did my turtle Sammy and then I'd be sad.
Me and my new friend. He makes me hungry.
Jamie, me and Geo on the boardwalk.
On our way in we passed some flyers advertising New Jersey's Polar Bear Plunge. Paul said he'd do it if I did and I was like why not. But he has a Christening to attend that day so what he wants to do is gather up donations and give it to charity anyway, then just do the actual jump ourselves on a different day. I don't know about that idea. I mean if we do it during the actual event then we're actually a part of something. If we do it the day after, we're just two idiots jumping off a pier into freezing water.
Me: I kind of want to do it. Just for shits and giggles.
Geo: Okay white girl, they're sucking you into their world.
Me: I didn't say I wanted to go pet a fucking crocodile or something. Besides, this from the guy who's jumped out of a perfectly good plane AND jumped off a bridge tied to a springy cord.
Geo: Yeah they've already sucked me in. They don't need you too.
So who wants to donate some money to the Special Olympics? Paul has a video camera so there will be evidence of our lunacy. And lunacy it is. Apparently the shock of the cold water can sometimes stop your heart for a few seconds. Or longer. Then what happens? I mean you can't use those electro paddle thingys on someone wet I'm assuming. "CLEAR... zzzzzzt... oh fuck."
By the way, I have to stop making white jokes for awhile. Paul is catching feelings. I don't know why, he knows I make fun of everyone, even my own people. I am an equal-opportunity fun-maker-ofer. But you know how touchy white folks can be. Like some random guy gets flipped off on the road and all of a sudden freeway shootings become a national pastime.