03-24/"I'll have the 81st and Amsterdam"

I paced around looking for something to do. It was Saturday, and I needed a plan. Here were my tools to chose from.

2 full boxes of strawberries

A clean shirt that needed to be ironed.

my sister on an Asian bus to Mohegan.

a late flight to Boston.

I desperately wanted to fly to Boston, but I knew I shouldn't give in to the price.

I knocked the Mohegan choice quickly out of my head. I figured there was no way I was coming back on that bus without either having to pee 35 times, or so hungry/drunk that I would steal one of the Asian's sushi medley, resulting in an international incident. I also figured there was no way I could keep up with my sister and her boyfriend playing every slot machine the casino could offer.

I also didn't need my sister to have to call up my mother and advise her that,

"Chris bought Blu Blockers and is dancing in the 'Casino of the Water' fountain with a feather boa. I think he went to the bathroom in there."

So I moved on to the strawberries, and decided I was going to make a strawberry tart. Just then I received a call from Paps that we were going to hit the town. Sure!I said and I went and ironed my shirt.

Soon I was off to the train where I settled comfortably into my usual seat, in the smaller compartment. I noticed how dry my skin was. The right headphone kept buzzing with static when the decibels would be too high.

We arrived at Penn, and I began my usual fantasy, striding along to Kings of Leon, "Sex on Fire."
Off to the 1 again, and uptown we went. I escaped the subway at 72nd, wondering why I didn't wait for the 3. Either way I exited and went to our sports! place, Blondies.

Entering the bar I looked around for Paps and the group. The tables were arranged tightly, so I didn't want to wander around. Due to an unfortunate early departure of my right contact for the day, I had to shed the other one before I left the house. I was stuck in the corner, squinting through each table looking for the party.

Making eye contact with a few people, I would hurriedly avert my eyes to the numerous sports screen, and make a silent fist pump. I tried to look as if I wasn't just locking eyes with the patrons, but watching the sports awkwardly from the corner. I would look at my watch, and make head nods to the other room, so that the people would think I wasn't alone and was just waiting for the bathroom or something.

Then Paps called, and he told me he wasn't there yet and that the other group had already left. OK, time for awkward alone activities again, but at least Paps was around the corner.

The next 2 hours consisted of me getting something on my shirt, considering going to Filene's for a new one, deciding to go to Duane Reade for a Tide Pen, then stumbling out of there to meet a friend of Paps celebrating a birthday.

We entered the next bar, Paps' friends crew owning most of the corner. Ah, a safe haven. I moo-ed my way to the bathroom, and on the return I encountered an unexpected event.

"Hey," accompanied a tug on my shirt. The ringleader of the girls sitting at a table said,
"My friend likes you."

Going through pages and pages of awkward grammar school and high school situations of confronting girls, I actually stopped and instead of saying, " Hey, my name is Chris how is everyone?" I blabbed out a loud,

"Whoo?"

She pointed to her friend in the corner who wouldn't make eye contact. Shy, I thought in my head. It still didn't matter because I was already planning on pretending someone called me from the corner, and was going to make a ballet move out of the situation.

Something like that ended up happening, so I continued on my merry way of making fun of people throughout the bar.

Later on, the girls were looking at me again, so out of respect I went over. The one ringleader tried to get me to talk to the girl in question, but she desperately tried to stay locked in talking to a waitress. Odd, I thought, but once again, I knew this wasn't going anywhere, even though I wanted the story.

I sat back down at the table, and started getting mouthy about a patron wearing a Phillies hat. Then out of nowhere the girl in question walked over.

Shit, I thought. This girl is going to ask me out, what am I going to do. I have to pick up dry cleaning, write blogs, eat sandwiches - I don't have time for this.

"I'm sorry about my friends...." she slowly started.

Oh boy, here is comes. How am I going to let this little phillie down....

"I just went through a tough loss in my life, and my friends just want me to have some fun. I hope they weren't a bother. Sorry." And she left.

If ever I was able to get a chance to do the Austin Power's "Ah." Here it was. I was all prepared to give the old, "Listen sweetheart.." speech, used to having to fight the ladies off with a stick. But this was much....funnier.

And it was fantastic. She walked away and I felt silly, but after a few moments, relieved. Another close one avoided. Paps and I got into a cab, where he asked the driver,

"Can I have the 81st and Amsterdam?"

Poking through a few bars up there, we found nothing but an Australian, and a girl in red. Time to go home.

I ended up falling asleep on the railroad and missed my stop on the Pt. Washington line for the first time in my life. Ending up on Bell Blvd, my drunk feet pulled me toward White Castle. I knew this wasn't going to end up well.

Actually just settling for a simple snack, I still decided to punish myself by walking to my car at Broadway. I settled back into my movie role, and hit play on the IPod. Sashay-ing down Northern Blvd at 430 am, I felt pretty good. The music was nice, I felt vindicated of my crappy eating by challenging myself to the walk.

Everything was.....not bad. Not bad at all.

Then some people yelled at me from a car.

Goodnight.

ck