Return of the Farrell

I have noticed a few changes in myself since moving to NYC. For starters, I swear a lot more, I mean a whole fucking lot. I have also become pretty distrustful. I mean just today a guy in a suit stopped me on my way to work to ask where the nearest liquor store is. Umm, it was 7:30 in the morning…are they even open…seriously! I pointed to the wino curled up in the fetal position nearby and said “I don’t know, ask him” because chances are, he does. Finally, my alcohol tolerance has increased tenfold. Yeah technically I am now a binge drinker because I consume more than 5 drinks in one evening….but how else am I going to get the great stories to write up in the blog!!!! Anyway, I can single handily thank one person for my increase in alcohol consumption, Farrell!

Yes the Legendary Farrell, one of my first friends in the city. He moved back to KC this summer, and now he was back in town for a whirlwind long weekend. Thursday night started with the requisite cheap drinks and withered hot dogs at Rudy’s. Not being able to keep up with Farrell, I tapped out and was replaced by Marshall and Ali. I guess they gave a good showing in my absence since Farrell came back to the apartment at 2am, passed out in his clothes, and snored like a champ. Seriously, Bree and I talked the next day about the loudness about the snoring, and she said she was ready to maul him with a pillow.

Friday night we kept with the tradition and drank again, but in the Village instead. We met up with Jeff and little Joshua. Okay, Jeff is openly nicknamed sckeezy Jeff because he is the walking embodiment of Quagmire from Family Guy. Giggidy, giggidy! He is the same guy who made out with two random drunk chicks at Doc’s, twice (even after seeing another guy step in on the same action moments before). He was wearing a molten Star of David necklace and a dog tag with a design that looked like half a Menorah on it. Yeah, not kidding! The amazing thing is the guy is magic with the ladies. I seriously have never seen him strike out (well except for my friends and I, then again we are not Jewish and cannot hear the sub human hypnotic suggestions). That night he brought his date who was a gorgeous, smart, funny woman. What the hell! We all gave each other confused shrugs behind his back.

Saturday was an event filled day. I say that only because we planned on drinking at two places. First off was the Brooklyn Brewery. Yes, yes, I WAS there last weekend, but seriously this place is hopping on a Saturday. Plus it was a way to justify drinking at 1 in the afternoon. We made friends with a Swede named Matt when we took over his table (they are a the hot commodities…tables, not the Swedish). Anyway, he also was in town for the weekend and the brewery was the highlight of his America trip. The Statue of Freaking Liberty, Empire State Building, and Central Park hold no comparison to fresh draft beer. Plus I guess Brooklyn Brews are all the rage in Sweden where you can only get it bottled, so being at the brewery and drinking it out of A GLASS was a real treat!

I brought along cards this time to pass the time as we consume our mandatory 6 pints of beer. During “circle of death”, Bree was able to make the rule that we had to say “over” once we were done speaking. Yeah, genius I know. Well I pulled the next rule card and Farrell made some comment about not allowing women to talk, etc, so I decided the new rule would require us to say “over (pause) Farrell sucks” after speaking. Ah ha ha ha. He wasn’t too happy about that one but it made for some laughs.

As expected, the place was bustling. Since we had been there for three hours, the bartenders started to give us free beers. Not a good idea since we were already wasted. Seriously, we started playing Indian poker with very curious more sober people looking on. Eventually the shut down shop and we needed to head back to Manhattan anyway for the KSU basketball game watch party. Farrell, Bree, and I grabbed the Swede and hopped into a gypsy cab that was willing to drive us to the Upper East Side for only $20. Umm, buddy, you better check your math since it would be about double that just to get to Grand Central. Bree and I had our fill of booze, so we ended up leaving in the first half. Hopefully we won. Note for next time, build up tolerance so that I can last at least 5 hours with the champ….Farrell.

On a side note, the next day we went to the Natural History Museum. The only notable thing is that I crop dusted a small child. For those who don’t know what that means, good. For those who do, it was awesome!