My boo's birthday was this past wednesday. In all fairness, you can read her breakdown of the night's events here. We met up at 5 in the East Village to partake of some happy hour margaritas and bar food at La Palapa. In retrospect, more emphasis should have been put on the "food" part, but I'm getting ahead of myself. I arrived first and was greeted by ... plastic wrap and sawdust. Not a good start. I'm informed that they are under week-long renovations, but that I can take their chartered bus over to their West Village location. As I'm trying to politely bow out, they tell me that the bus will be running back and forth until 10 that night and will be passing out free drinks. And then the ringer: there will be a dj on board. No you didn't!
So I wait in the sawdust, because ridiculous opportunities like this don't come nearly often enough. Suzy shows up and had the same initial reaction as me. She had emailed her friends the itinerary, and wasn't comfortable skipping across town at the last second. I could be wrong, but I think the sight of the Colombian party bus was what pushed her over. We got on the bus. I'm not sure how this bus was sad and awesome at the same time, but it rode that line. Anyway, I had let slip earlier that it was Suzy's birthday. So everyone burst into a happy birthday song, complete with her name. At no point had I mentioned her name! The creepy factor only rose when this tiny lady dressed up as the Gordon's fisherman started dancing her ass off. Did I mention there were only 3 passengers on the bus? My fear was calmed by 2 margaritas though.
We arrived at La Palapa, and met up with some friends who we'd told of the venue shift. I had 3 more margaritas and a scrape of guacamole. I should mention that all I had eaten earlier that day was a small piece of meatloaf and a mealy apple. Not a good base. Well, La Palapa flew by, and before you knew it: bus time again. No fishermen this time, but I did have another margarita. Arriving in the East Village, we walked to the Continental. For those not familiar, the Continental offers 5 shots for $10. And these aren't limited to your standard well liquor. As in, I could order 5 shots of Maker's Mark. And did. Repeatedly. Bad news.
More friends showed up and good times were had by all. The bar was showing The Terminator on a projection screen, which was pretty cool. I remember ordering another round of Maker's and then almost falling off a bench while trying to plug a battery charger into the wall. And then that's it. My memory stops. I hear tale that I was kicked out of the Continental, and about a homeless man helping me up off the street, but I can't corroborate these stories. But I do remember the Terminator.
My review of my Mar. 19 viewing of The Terminator:
So, you've got this lady with muskrat hair being chased by the governor of California. (he used to be an actor?) She holes up in a police station with the guy from Star Trek 2 and the dude from Aliens. ("I prefer the term Artificial Person") They are all cocky and police-like until a car drives into the station. People get shot. Another dude from Aliens ("Stay frosty") shows up and says, "Come with me if you want to live!" More people get shot. The end.
I should eat more before I go out drinking. And I shouldn't hijack my girlfriend's birthday. Sorry baby!
So I wait in the sawdust, because ridiculous opportunities like this don't come nearly often enough. Suzy shows up and had the same initial reaction as me. She had emailed her friends the itinerary, and wasn't comfortable skipping across town at the last second. I could be wrong, but I think the sight of the Colombian party bus was what pushed her over. We got on the bus. I'm not sure how this bus was sad and awesome at the same time, but it rode that line. Anyway, I had let slip earlier that it was Suzy's birthday. So everyone burst into a happy birthday song, complete with her name. At no point had I mentioned her name! The creepy factor only rose when this tiny lady dressed up as the Gordon's fisherman started dancing her ass off. Did I mention there were only 3 passengers on the bus? My fear was calmed by 2 margaritas though.
We arrived at La Palapa, and met up with some friends who we'd told of the venue shift. I had 3 more margaritas and a scrape of guacamole. I should mention that all I had eaten earlier that day was a small piece of meatloaf and a mealy apple. Not a good base. Well, La Palapa flew by, and before you knew it: bus time again. No fishermen this time, but I did have another margarita. Arriving in the East Village, we walked to the Continental. For those not familiar, the Continental offers 5 shots for $10. And these aren't limited to your standard well liquor. As in, I could order 5 shots of Maker's Mark. And did. Repeatedly. Bad news.
More friends showed up and good times were had by all. The bar was showing The Terminator on a projection screen, which was pretty cool. I remember ordering another round of Maker's and then almost falling off a bench while trying to plug a battery charger into the wall. And then that's it. My memory stops. I hear tale that I was kicked out of the Continental, and about a homeless man helping me up off the street, but I can't corroborate these stories. But I do remember the Terminator.
My review of my Mar. 19 viewing of The Terminator:
So, you've got this lady with muskrat hair being chased by the governor of California. (he used to be an actor?) She holes up in a police station with the guy from Star Trek 2 and the dude from Aliens. ("I prefer the term Artificial Person") They are all cocky and police-like until a car drives into the station. People get shot. Another dude from Aliens ("Stay frosty") shows up and says, "Come with me if you want to live!" More people get shot. The end.
I should eat more before I go out drinking. And I shouldn't hijack my girlfriend's birthday. Sorry baby!
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