I realize this weblog is becoming a weekend diary of my drinkingcapades and therefore probably pretty lame and cliche, which, given the author, was inevitable. But, again, it was either being social at night on the weekend or preserving energy to go and be touristy during the day. There definitely isn't room for both. Maybe if I got more sleep during the week there would be, but that's just overambitious and unrealistic. So I choose to be social because it's better for my self-esteem. I apologize if you come here to learn about neat ways to go out and experience your nation's capital. I do hope you enjoy reading how I go out and such, but I understand if you do not. If that is the case, I am not sure why you have continued reading for so long. Check that. Yes I do. I'm moderately to very funny. And immodest. But you don't come here for the immodesty. Maybe you do, though, so you can be like, "well at least I am not like, Jeff," which probably covers multiple reasons why people read this. I'm embarrassed.
Whatever. This has always been about me and not you anyway.
So let me tell you how I drink too much, last weekend version. (I really hope no one that matters reads this and makes a judgement of me based on this fact. Maybe I should start writing about my inner thoughts and feelings that make me appear like a decent human being, rather than my Friday-Sunday actions that make me appear worthless.) So, if you are someone that only knows me based on this blog, here is how I am an OK person:
1. I carry a dollar bill in my pocket at all times and give it to any homeless/beggar person that asks for change.
2. I am going to law school to be a public interest lawyer, which means the kind that is not in it for the money. On a related note, if you're rich and want to pay for my law school so that I am not a severely indebted person upon graduation, leave me your contact information in the comments section and we can discuss payment options. Thanks in advance.
That's about it. Sorry for bragging. It was necessary for damage control.
But really, all the drinking isn't entirely my fault. Take Friday for example. I had every intention of staying in and watching a movie with a bottle of wine when my roommate came home, liked the wine idea, got out another bottle, and FORCED me to play "Jeopardy, Drinking Version."
Then, Saturday, I was going to go be a tourist but, you know how drinking wine is, I slept in a little late. And my roommates wanted to go play basketball so I couldn't turn down that opportunity to burn some wine-related calories.
Saturday night: I thought we were going to just go out and have a few drinks at a bar on U St. Then a friend asks "should we pregame?" Well, shit, I am not going to just say no, because I am nice like that (add that to the list above at #3), so we do that for a little while at my house while watching Tennessee win their first (FIRST?! It's November! You probably knew that, though. That it's November, that is. But you probably knew that it was Tennessee's first conference win, too, since probably all two of you that read this graduated with me from there.) SEC game then head out to meet up with people at Policy.
Which reminds me: let's talk about the most pretentious experience of your life. Good talk. Mine was Saturday night at Policy--a nightmare of a bar.
So, if you don't know, Policy is the type of bar where normal people plan during the day to go there and are like "hey, we're going to go to policy tonight because i want to make myself pretty and i want to dance and i want to do this in a crowded area with house music being played. oh and i want to have to wait for like an hour before i can get upstairs to experience all this because i want those that are sitting at the bar near the line to get upstairs to know that i am serious about wanting to have a "good time" after that big bouncer guy let's me past him."
When we arrived there we were those at the bar downstairs. Then we walked outside to leave because we were not those people that wait in line. Then, inexplicably, my friend said he got us a table upstairs. Then he said we got bottle service and it's going to be like $250. I then said I am not paying that much to drink liquor at this place. That did not deter him. Next thing I know we are at a table, roped off in the corner of the room with all the others that I described above dancing up until the rope that segregates our special area with their not-so-special one. And people look at us. And I am grimacing at this fact. And the one that deals with that I am roped off, but it might as well be encaged or englassed, getting served champagne and vodka in a bar where people are moving in no particular manner because it's house music and no one there listens to house music on a normal basis. Then my friend notices my grimace but I say I am having a good time because I would not want to hurt his feelings, he who paid for the liquor, because I am nice like that (reason #4).
Then I start drinking and I relax.
Then I go to the bathroom where some guy tries to have a conversation but I cannot hear him because of said house music, but would probably have ignored him anyway because we're in line for the bathroom, which is a good time to be left alone. And he tells my other friend in line that I am less of a person for not engaging in conversation with him.
Then I go up to the bachelorette party in the other blocked-off area near us and ask for one of their glow-in-the-dark bracelets. And they give me one.
We leave when the lights come on, and that experience is over. I will not be doing that unless it is a special occasion ever again. Promise.
Then I ate a lot at JJ's Cheesesteaks. Which reminds me: I suck at not being a borderline fat person. Because: earlier in the night I had chinese food and my fortune read as such: The night life is for you. Not a fortune, but accurate all the same. (You see, all this drinking is out of my control. Even the fortune cookie god recognizes that. Why can't you, judgey mcjudgerson?)
I was awake Sunday morning. I was not happy about this fact, but I had promised to go to a casino in Delaware with my roommates to gamble on NFL football games. We leave at 9am because they want to do some traditional gambling, as well.
You've probably been to a casino before, and may even had been there with me, so I will not bore you with the details, regardless of what the title of this post may have led you to believe was going to be written here, mostly because they involve a lot of losing money, which is depressing. I suck at guessing which football team will win/lose to another within a certain number of points. And that one time I won $500 on roulette was a fluke, apparently.
However, we did have a little competition to see who could get the oldest person to touch them because there are a lot of them at casinos. My one roommate started talking to this old lady about this slot machine game we were playing. Laughs were shared and as she was leaving she ever so gently touched my shoulder.
So I have that going for me.
No comments:
Post a Comment