Tony's Birthday Shenanigans

Tony's Birthday Shenanigans

I told you I forget birthdays. I even had plans in place to celebrate Tony's birthday with him and I still forgot to come on here and wish him a happy birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY TONY!!)

Geo and I met up with T, Eric, Mike J, Melizz, her friend and Dre at The Office in Ridgewood last night to tip back a few (dozen) in honor of Tony's 32nd. It made me laugh to see that at the ripe old age of 32, Tony's friends could still bully him into downing beer in a mug bigger than his head, a stupid amount of shots and karaok-ing in front of a hundred people. And you thought people mature with age. What is this maturity thing you all speak of.

Afterwards, we tossed around the idea of going to our favorite strip joint but instead decided to head across the street to some "club" called Blend. I tried to get out of it ("I am NOT trying to go clubbing in Ridgewood fucking New Jersey") but they played the Majority Rules card so we hit up Blend. At first, it just seemed like an empty bar-turned restaurant. But aaaaaaalllllllllll the way in the back, there was this secret hallway that led to a club and patio. The bouncers were even wearing snazzy suits. They had one of those bands onstage, that make me want to rip my ears off. I'm not certain what the genre was... they have trumpets and the lead singers are always black men and women with deep voices. Happy jazz? I wasn't drunk enough that I could chill just anywhere and be happy, so T and I hung out on the smoking patio and didn't fricken smoke. Because I tried to jump off the wagon and it sucked.

Remember when Chris Rock said men had to find women and settle down, because they don't want to be the "old guy at the club?" This place was comprised almost entirely of them. It was like we had found their natural habitat and breeding ground. I mean more power to you if you're 60 and still trying to bang 30-something-year-old women, but my ass was grabbed by ninjas yo. NINJAS. A quick feel, I'd turn around and whoooooosh. Just like that they'd disappear. The greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing everyone he didn't exist.

My point is, don't go clubbing in Ridgewood okay? That tip's free.

Afterwards, Mike J and I dropped T off at home to sleep it off (Geo went home earlier) and then we hit up the best ghetto diner in the world, Tops Diner. I was all for White Castle and an early night but Mike was not budging off the Hungrymans. Tops has these open-faced roast beef sandwiches slathered in gravy, that are just about the best sandwiches in the entire fricken world. Seriously. And they're served right in the dining capital of the Eastern Seaboard, Newark. Wow. It really *is* "The Renaissance City."

When we walked into the place, there was the prettiest little 3-year-old girl standing in the waiting area. She had long, wavy, honey-colored hair and big brown eyes. She smiled at me and said "Hi" in the cutest voice imaginable. To which I replied, "Hi there. You are such a pretty little girl." To which her brother replied, "He's not a girl, he's a boy." WTF? Naturally I had lost my filter about 8 drinks back*, so my inner monologue was just shooting to the surface unimpeded. "What? You're kidding right?" And Mike said something similar and we just kept walking. Later on, I saw their parents and told them they had beautiful children, and I guess the siblings had pointed me out because they let me know that their beautiful little girl was in fact a boy named Jimmy. I instantly felt like crap. I looked down at his pretty, cherubic face and said "You're a very handsome little boy." Then went back to my table, still feeling like I had run over a bag of puppies.

Note to parents: If you are going to have your pretty little boy grow his hair to his ass, DRESS HIM IN BLUE. None of this green and yellow shit. BLUE. Then the rest of us won't have to feel like we just contributed to the complete fuck-up of his life. Also, what the hell are your 5 kids under the age of 8 doing running around unattended, in a fricken diner in Newark, at 2 in the morning??? Would you like a 6-pack for the drive home??

*I knew my filter was gone when we were on the patio in Blend, and one of Tony's co-workers started criticizing me for not liking Will Smith. He was like "I love Will Smith." He kept going on and on and on and I finally said, "Of course you do. You're a white guy. It's like a law or something that you have to like Will Smith." He was offended, probably because he had just done a great karaoke of "Bust A Move" and had a little flava in him. I wasn't trying to be rude but come on... bitching me out for not liking Will Smith? He's hot, his wife is hot, I like his movies and "Parents Just Don't Understand" is a great song... but I am not trying to Bienvenido A Miami.