There are certain stories that will always make me smile at first and then cringe at the end; this is one of those stories.
Back in college I had the worst fake ID, and so did the rest of my girlfriends, so whenever we discovered a bar that we could get into we would run with it, and that's where Porky's comes into the picture. Porky's was the ultimate place for us when we were underage, because it was only 18 to get in and then at the bar they wouldn't card us again AND if we got there before 11, their fishbowl drinks were only $15. We would each get a fishbowl and go to town. The place was a dive, it was gross and dirty, but it was always fun.
Except for one time....It started as a usual night at Porky's, but better because a lot of people were home from school for Thanksgiving break, so it was a big get together on the Tuesday before Turkey day. We all gathered our fishbowls and began drinking as normal. At one point some other person left a fishbowl on our table so we decided it would be a good idea to drink that as well...and the night progressed. Usually we take a cab home from the city, but this night we decided it'd be a fine idea to take the lovely A train home since we were with A's cousin and another friend. Somehow we made it back to Queens. I was staying at A's house because we had intentions to go to our high school's thanksgiving mass.
Well the next morning when our other friends tried to call us to join them to go to the mass, which would have been lovely if either of us could move. After they came back from the mass we decided to go to the diner for breakfast. As soon as my food arrived, I had to run to the bathroom, to throw up of course. And then the phone call to end all phone calls occurred.
A's mom calls her to ask her if she felt her smacking the shit out of her this morning, naturally A is clueless, we were passed out. She proceeds to explain how when she came downstairs to leave for work, she saw A but not me, and she saw the bathroom light on so she walked on in to find, yours truly, passed out on the bowl...passed out post-urination, so yes, pants around the ankles, sitting on the toilet, just sleeping away. Poor thing had to grab me and pick my pants up and drag me back to the couch and then thats when she smacked her daughter across the face. Neither of these events do we remember. So we start to think that maybe there was a little something more in our drinks.
Later we find out another story which leads us to believe we were group date-raped. A's cousin went back to his house after walking us home and passed out on his couch and woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, apparently he must have been making a lot of noise because his mom went to see what was happening, and what was happening was that he was trying to pee behind the couch.
That was one of the last times we went to Porky's, not because we are certain there was crack in those fishbowls, but because it became too popular and too crowded, and therefore we wanted nothing to do with it anymore. Every now and then that story comes up and iIstart to laugh hysterically at the beginning and then when I think about the end, I feel slightly embarassed, but I laugh even harder.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
From Wearing a Shirt in a Pool to Being Shirtless Dancing on the Bar: The Two Extremes who Tended the Bar of My Heart
I like to make things easy in my life, and I think the easiest way to make things..well, easy is by combining things. It took me a while but I realized I could combine two things I really enjoy, men and drinking, by dating bartenders. A win-win situation for everyone.
The first bartender I discovered was out in Long Island when my friend A was dating a juicehead and we would go visit the bar he worked at, well his friend, L, also worked there, and we drunkenly hit it off and exchanged numbers and began to chat. He was certainly not the best looking but he was really nice and would serve me drinks until we left and then he would drive me home and buy me McDonald's and we would eat and watch bad tv shows (the way to my heart is so simple, it kills me). Turns out L used to be severely overweight and had gotten his tummy tucked, if only my life could be so simple, but I digress. We never went out on a date, only once did I go with him to his indoor roller hockey league game, but I wasn't interested in much more. The perks of dating a bartender especially when you're underage is getting into the bar and getting free drinks. I began to lose interest in L but he was bartending at a bar in Rockaway so I took my favorite drinking buddy, Dancer Pants, with me. We secured our seats in the corner of the back bar and did not move for a solid six hours, stories were shared, shots were taken (we even had Uncle Rico from Rockaway as I fondly remember him, buy us shots of Patron-before it was cool). I then noticed L talking to another girl which happened to be in A's sorority, I was not amused so Dancer Pants and I decided to leave. We also decided it would be a good idea to just walk over the bridge from Rockaway into Broad Channel. Only one of those decisions were a good idea. In the end I stopped speaking to L for 2 reasons, 1 because he became an annoying club promoter and would constantly send me event invitations on Facebook for when pornstars would make guest appearances at "cool" places in Long Island and 2 because he would wear a shirt in the pool.
I really enjoy going out in the winter, not because I don't have anyone to cuddle with at home but the bars aren't as crowded and I can drink to forget that I don't have anyone to cuddle with at home. A couple of years ago I went out with some girlfriends from high school, after bouncing around to a couple of bars we ended up at Calico Jack's, I was already working on my buzz and I made my way to the bar, and started chatting to the guy next to me, he then introduced me to his cousin, the bartender, J. Well, from that moment on we spent the entire time holding hands across the bar, until finally we had to leave the bar, he wrote his number on a napkin as my future husband. He took me out to dinner, opened the car door for me, and I thought we really hit it off. We hung out a few more times and then after a few months he just plain ignored me, I certainly don't pursue anyone, I had just sent a couple texts but they were very clearly ignored. I was over it, even though I had really liked him. Time passed and it was G's boyfriend's birthday and he decided to have an open bar at Calico's, it was certainly fate that when we got to the bar, J was on TOP of the bar, shirtless and pouring beer on his chest. I got drunker and at one point leaped across the bar and yelled at him (I can be dramatic). After that point we became friends and had other interesting encounters, like the time I had won a free happy hour (you know from those annoying girls who make you fill out your information while you're trying to order your drink, well I never win and I was excited to go). I brought Dancer Pants and off we went. Now J knows I have an obsession with margaritas and he does try his hardest to impress me with his margie making skills, but I am certain he roofies them, because at about 7, I was puking in the bushes on Second Avenue with 2 very nice NYPD officers holding back my hair. Every so often I'll see J bartending and he will get me drunk and we smooch before I leave the bar and that is exactly the type of dynamic I am most happy with.
I'm sure eventually I will find someone who will meet my standards of making a perfect margarita and being shirtless in water.
The first bartender I discovered was out in Long Island when my friend A was dating a juicehead and we would go visit the bar he worked at, well his friend, L, also worked there, and we drunkenly hit it off and exchanged numbers and began to chat. He was certainly not the best looking but he was really nice and would serve me drinks until we left and then he would drive me home and buy me McDonald's and we would eat and watch bad tv shows (the way to my heart is so simple, it kills me). Turns out L used to be severely overweight and had gotten his tummy tucked, if only my life could be so simple, but I digress. We never went out on a date, only once did I go with him to his indoor roller hockey league game, but I wasn't interested in much more. The perks of dating a bartender especially when you're underage is getting into the bar and getting free drinks. I began to lose interest in L but he was bartending at a bar in Rockaway so I took my favorite drinking buddy, Dancer Pants, with me. We secured our seats in the corner of the back bar and did not move for a solid six hours, stories were shared, shots were taken (we even had Uncle Rico from Rockaway as I fondly remember him, buy us shots of Patron-before it was cool). I then noticed L talking to another girl which happened to be in A's sorority, I was not amused so Dancer Pants and I decided to leave. We also decided it would be a good idea to just walk over the bridge from Rockaway into Broad Channel. Only one of those decisions were a good idea. In the end I stopped speaking to L for 2 reasons, 1 because he became an annoying club promoter and would constantly send me event invitations on Facebook for when pornstars would make guest appearances at "cool" places in Long Island and 2 because he would wear a shirt in the pool.
I really enjoy going out in the winter, not because I don't have anyone to cuddle with at home but the bars aren't as crowded and I can drink to forget that I don't have anyone to cuddle with at home. A couple of years ago I went out with some girlfriends from high school, after bouncing around to a couple of bars we ended up at Calico Jack's, I was already working on my buzz and I made my way to the bar, and started chatting to the guy next to me, he then introduced me to his cousin, the bartender, J. Well, from that moment on we spent the entire time holding hands across the bar, until finally we had to leave the bar, he wrote his number on a napkin as my future husband. He took me out to dinner, opened the car door for me, and I thought we really hit it off. We hung out a few more times and then after a few months he just plain ignored me, I certainly don't pursue anyone, I had just sent a couple texts but they were very clearly ignored. I was over it, even though I had really liked him. Time passed and it was G's boyfriend's birthday and he decided to have an open bar at Calico's, it was certainly fate that when we got to the bar, J was on TOP of the bar, shirtless and pouring beer on his chest. I got drunker and at one point leaped across the bar and yelled at him (I can be dramatic). After that point we became friends and had other interesting encounters, like the time I had won a free happy hour (you know from those annoying girls who make you fill out your information while you're trying to order your drink, well I never win and I was excited to go). I brought Dancer Pants and off we went. Now J knows I have an obsession with margaritas and he does try his hardest to impress me with his margie making skills, but I am certain he roofies them, because at about 7, I was puking in the bushes on Second Avenue with 2 very nice NYPD officers holding back my hair. Every so often I'll see J bartending and he will get me drunk and we smooch before I leave the bar and that is exactly the type of dynamic I am most happy with.
I'm sure eventually I will find someone who will meet my standards of making a perfect margarita and being shirtless in water.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
If you're creepy and you know it, and you really wanna show it-request random people on facebook!
Sometimes I go against my better judgement and give out my number rather freely, it's a curse that amuses me all too often. Facebook can be considered the greatest, creepiest thing ever invented; most normal people use it to communicate with friends, family; smarter people use it to network and promote their business; creepy guys use it to try and pick up girls. Here is one of those guys.
Facebook is cool in the sense that when someone sends you a friend request and you don't immediately recognize the name or face (sometimes cleverly concealed by a hat or reflected in a dirty mirror) you can see who your mutual friends are, here are where two thoughts come into mind: 1) I really don't know who this person is, but since we have 10 mutual friends it's possible that I have in face met this person and I will now accept your request, or 2) WOW! What a creep, NO I do NOT know you and therefore I will ignore your request, FREAK!
I teeter between those 2 options, on a good day when I am feeling nice I usually go with option 1 and that is what happened with this particular guy.
I accepted a friend request from a guy who had several random mutual friends, immediately after I accepted the request I got 3 photo comments, a wall post and private message. I thought to myself, ohh kay, a little bit creepy but I was being complimented so how could I be that upset. I entertained the message and we figured out we had never met through any of our friends, he asked for my number and I didn't see any harm in giving it to him, he had seemed decent looking in his pictures, he had a lot of tattoos, and had a lot of clever things written on his page so I guess I had become somewhat interested.
Nothing irritates me more than trying to make plans that are just convenient for one person, if you'd like to take me out, then ask, I will of course say "no" because I do not know you but at least it shows me that you'd want to set time aside and you've thought of a time and place. After several sad attempts at saying we should meet up for a drink and a few more text messages that were just sort of odd, telling me how he's had such a hard life, and blah blah blah, things started to get a little weird. He left a comment on my Facebook wall, which everyone could see, in which he had spelled my last name wrong, my last name has 5 letters, 3 of which are vowels, not to mention that my last name is ON MY FACEBOOK. I, being the mocking bitch that I love to be, called him out on his error in spelling my name and made fun of him for not being able to read. Five minutes later the comment was deleted and so was I, as his friend. The next day he tried friend requesting my sister, we both have the same last name, clearly he still hadn't learned to read.
Facebook is cool in the sense that when someone sends you a friend request and you don't immediately recognize the name or face (sometimes cleverly concealed by a hat or reflected in a dirty mirror) you can see who your mutual friends are, here are where two thoughts come into mind: 1) I really don't know who this person is, but since we have 10 mutual friends it's possible that I have in face met this person and I will now accept your request, or 2) WOW! What a creep, NO I do NOT know you and therefore I will ignore your request, FREAK!
I teeter between those 2 options, on a good day when I am feeling nice I usually go with option 1 and that is what happened with this particular guy.
I accepted a friend request from a guy who had several random mutual friends, immediately after I accepted the request I got 3 photo comments, a wall post and private message. I thought to myself, ohh kay, a little bit creepy but I was being complimented so how could I be that upset. I entertained the message and we figured out we had never met through any of our friends, he asked for my number and I didn't see any harm in giving it to him, he had seemed decent looking in his pictures, he had a lot of tattoos, and had a lot of clever things written on his page so I guess I had become somewhat interested.
Nothing irritates me more than trying to make plans that are just convenient for one person, if you'd like to take me out, then ask, I will of course say "no" because I do not know you but at least it shows me that you'd want to set time aside and you've thought of a time and place. After several sad attempts at saying we should meet up for a drink and a few more text messages that were just sort of odd, telling me how he's had such a hard life, and blah blah blah, things started to get a little weird. He left a comment on my Facebook wall, which everyone could see, in which he had spelled my last name wrong, my last name has 5 letters, 3 of which are vowels, not to mention that my last name is ON MY FACEBOOK. I, being the mocking bitch that I love to be, called him out on his error in spelling my name and made fun of him for not being able to read. Five minutes later the comment was deleted and so was I, as his friend. The next day he tried friend requesting my sister, we both have the same last name, clearly he still hadn't learned to read.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Who is this girl and does she use big words?
I try to only use words that I can pronounce properly and spell correctly so no this will not require you to go to the dictionary and learn a new word.
I figured this being my first post, I should give a little description about myself, I've been called a lot of things in my day but usually it's Fran, Frannie or hot mess. I'm 23 and I live with my parents in Queens, I'm not bitter about that at all. I'm a Taurus but I drive a Sentra. I have a younger sister, G. I was an English major in college because I am a bookworm and I've always liked making up stories. I enjoy drinking, sometimes heavily, and I've been known to black out many, many times.
I'm pretty awkward (please note that there is not a comma in that statement) which always makes for funny situations. I have a small wolf pack, these are my rocks and my usual audience, I'm sure they'll be mentioned plenty throughout but I'll refer to them by their initials, I wouldn't want to embarrass them more than I already do.
I don't know what I want to do in life, and even though I love planning things (such as birthdays, vacations, etc) I don't have a life plan, but I like it that way, it makes people uncomfortable when I answer I don't know what I'm doing with my life.
I have a completely unsuccessful love life which keeps everyone thoroughly entertained. I haven't had a relationship in 4 years, with that being said, it was my only real relationship and it didn't even last a full year. So I am very much romantically challenged but I don't feel sad about it, I too, enjoy the misfortunes. I'm just all about laughter, causing it, participating in it, it's what keeps me sane.
I figured this being my first post, I should give a little description about myself, I've been called a lot of things in my day but usually it's Fran, Frannie or hot mess. I'm 23 and I live with my parents in Queens, I'm not bitter about that at all. I'm a Taurus but I drive a Sentra. I have a younger sister, G. I was an English major in college because I am a bookworm and I've always liked making up stories. I enjoy drinking, sometimes heavily, and I've been known to black out many, many times.
I'm pretty awkward (please note that there is not a comma in that statement) which always makes for funny situations. I have a small wolf pack, these are my rocks and my usual audience, I'm sure they'll be mentioned plenty throughout but I'll refer to them by their initials, I wouldn't want to embarrass them more than I already do.
I don't know what I want to do in life, and even though I love planning things (such as birthdays, vacations, etc) I don't have a life plan, but I like it that way, it makes people uncomfortable when I answer I don't know what I'm doing with my life.
I have a completely unsuccessful love life which keeps everyone thoroughly entertained. I haven't had a relationship in 4 years, with that being said, it was my only real relationship and it didn't even last a full year. So I am very much romantically challenged but I don't feel sad about it, I too, enjoy the misfortunes. I'm just all about laughter, causing it, participating in it, it's what keeps me sane.
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