May 15, 2005

Things About My Friends: Part Two

Things About My Friends: Part Two
Part Two of a 293-Part Series

Mike J takes his wingman duties very seriously. In fact, he might just be the best wingman in the history of nailing random girls at bars. In college, he tried to rescue his friend away from a scary specimen at a party. His friend not only convinced Mike to let him stay with the scary specimen whose ear he was currently licking, but further managed to convince Mike to be his wingman since the scary specimen had a scary specimen friend who was only slightly less scary. Then, his "friend" somehow got Mike to accompany them back to the girls' dorms so he could get laid without interference from the Scary Specimen Friend. An hour later, the friend was finished and Mike was the recipient of what I will refer to as a "halfsie" aka An Unfinished Blowjob Because She Was Tired or Lazy. The following morning, Mike's friend was overcome with embarrassment at his unfortunate beer goggle experience and worried that all their friends were going to make fun of him. He needn't have worried because instead, their friends spent the next four years making fun of Mike and the halfsie he received courtesy of the scary specimen friend. Here's to you, Wingman.

Ed bought a mint green Pashmina shawl the other day in Chinatown.

Ed: Do you want it?
Me: Sure. But if you're trying to convince us all you're not gay, what are you doing purchasing a mint green pashmina?
Ed (sighing because he's said this about eight times in the last three hours): See, it was in this plastic wrapper and I thought it was a darker green.
Me: A darker green pashmina?
Ed: No!!!!! A dark green scarf-- Can we just get past this?
Ray: All right Ed. We'll get past your unfortunate Chinatown moment.

The Newport-blowjob jokes stem from a night in 1995, when I was on the phone with Abel. It was my birthday so he was at a Jersey City payphone with a dialer from like midnight to 5 am his time (I was still in California). All of a sudden I hear some crackho mumble the words "dick" and "cigarette" and hear Abel yell "Naaaw maaan!!! I'll just GIVE you the smoke."

Tony fell asleep the other night at a strip joint. Lace in Nyack is like his Mecca, a place where the strippers are topless, liquor is served and lap dances cost "only" $20. Tony falling asleep at Lace is like me wandering into Target and not finding anything to buy. Never thought I'd see it happen. Mike got him a double lap dance which rejuvenated him for a few minutes, but then once they were gone he was like Popeye after the spinach wears off.

Mike J (poor Mike gets two in this post, because the blurb I wrote for Tony reminded me of something) spent $140 on lap dances the other night. This from someone who thinks/thought that strip joints are degrading to women. In his defense however, only $60 of that money was for himself. He also got Tony one, the groom-to-be Jay one, and me one as well, from the first Korean stripper I've ever seen in my life (I thought Sung Hi Lee was just an anomaly.) When I told Geo about Mike's expenditures the following morning, he replied "Mike... you have to be like me at strip joints. Jewish." Which you know, Mike of all people should have already known.

Girlie served Chilean sea bass, pork chops with red and green bell peppers, string beans sauteed with almonds, mash sweet potatoes and creme brulee FROM SCRATCH at Steve's surprise 29th birthday party last Thursday. We would be great lesbians because she likes to cook and I love to eat and if she were my wife I'd do all the chores just to keep that food coming. By the way, it only takes the introduction of a mini-blowtorch to illustrate that we can grow older but we don't have to grow up.

I can never remember any of Ray's secrets to put on here, because he's smart and tells them to me when I'm already drunk. I may just have to get Steve drunk and dig for information. Or, any of Ray's friends from Australia who are reading this can just drop me a note and I'll buy you a drink next time you're in NYC. I'm not above bribing people for dirt.

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