Rob-a-po-looza

Well Rob was leaving us again for Romania. This time we told him he must come back with an eastern European wife. Anyway, we hit the town to celebrate his last NYC weekend in a while. We started off with a fondue dinner at Bourgeois Pig. Okay I don’t know how you can classify fondue as a meal! It is just cheese! Dan (my friend visiting from Chicago) met up with us and we headed over to the speakeasy Please Don’t Tell. Okay this place is so mock exclusive that you have to make reservations the day of (no advance) and the phone lines don’t open until 3pm. So I call at 3:10 and make a reservation for 9pm. Well I show up and they are like, “oh yeah you are first on the waiting list”. What? Here is the conversation between me and the hostess:
Me: what, no I made a reservation
Her: well it fills up quickly and now you are on the waiting list
Me: no, I called at 3:10, you did not book up in ten minutes
Her: well we will give you the first table that frees up, it should be like 15 minutes
(20 minutes later)
Her: I can get you in at 10pm or you can sit at the bar
Me: (in my head) jackass

At least we were able to play 25 cent Mrs. PacMan and a retarded Space Invader while we waited. Dan actually got the new machine high score, so now he is a rock star. So Dana, Rob, Dan, and I are eventually crammed into seats at the bar instead of relaxing at a table which I had reserved! The one good thing about being at the bar was talking with the very knowledgeable bartenders. You basically tell them what kinds of alcohol you like, and they pull out a great cocktail from their ass. Seriously, I said I preferred light rum and a more citrus taste and he made me a…..snow cone! Well it had a fancy long name like “Queen Anne’s whisked delight blah blah blah” but I prefer to refer to it as “snow cone”. It had smashed mint at the bottom with several types of light rums and other liquors in the middle (made it taste like lemonade) capped off with a scope of shaved ice with a drizzle of red liquor on top. I couldn’t help but munch on the top of the drink. I think the bartender was annoyed that I called it snow cone instead of its proper name because soon the women around me started asking the bartender for “I want a yummy snow cone too”.

Eventually we met up with Evan, Vaswar, Chris, Melissa, Betty, and Dom at a dive bar on 6th and Ave A (I don’t recall the name….too many snow cones). We decided to send Rob off in style and ordered Irish car bombs and redbull/vodkas which is basically the crack of choice for our generation.

We finished off the night with Happy Endings. Yeah, I am not kidding. The place is really called “Happy Endings” and the sign is even in Chinese. I have been there once before with Wall Street guy, and it can best be described as a spa/massage parlor during the day and a club at night. We gathered in our own personal VIP booth where we were able to judge people for their horrible dancing. Eventually the DJ put on some of Dana’s music requests, and we soon became “those people”. Tisk tisk tisk.