Friday
I’m still on the poverty diet so I buy a bottle of Montepulciano to pre-game before going out. This particular bottle used to be 7 bucks but my liquor store jacked up the price to 9.99.

I wasn’t prepared for this extra cost so for dinner I abandon my plan to buy a slice of pizza and buy a pepperoni stick instead. The name does not leave much to the imagination. It’s basically fried dough stuffed with pepperoni and the size of–you guessed it– a stick.

I guess a smart person would have splurged on dinner and not on a bottle of wine but then how would you enjoy the rest of your Friday night?

Later on, my friend Sarah and I head to this bar Enid’s in Greenpoint for David R’s birthday.

David R is a friend of my friend Dave. They are both from Nashville. When the two of them get together, interesting things happen. And by interesting I mean one night they got really drunk and decided to smash all the light bulbs in Dave’s apartment building and Dave almost got evicted.

People from Nashville are fun to hangout with.

So Dave R currently works as a public school teacher in New Orleans. He was telling us what all the kids were saying these days. For instance, instead of eavesdropping they say ear hustlin’. They also say “no homo” after every sentence. They say it after the most benign things like “Oh, I watched Iron Man this weekend. No homo.”

I guess the phrase became really popular because Li’l Wayne says that all the time and for those of you who have been living under a rock or don’t listen to “that music”, Li’l Wayne is the reigning king of Hip Hop and kids in Louisiana follow his every word. Even homophobic ones!

Anyway, Enid’s was really fun and they have DJs who play really good music but since the place was populated by lumberjack looking dudes and girls with a BMI of 17, no one was really dancing. Not even to MJ!

So since I wasn’t dancing, I decided to keep drinking. Brooklyn Lagers were only $4 so I had, um, 20 bucks worth.

They love David R


Saturday
The bottle of wine and Brooklyn Lagers catch up to me and I am feeling like Lupe Fiasco. I am supposed to go see my friends perform in the Mermaid Parade but I am chained to my bed. And to make matters worse, I break out into hives. God is punishing me for my drinking problem. But at least I don’t have The Clap!

I take a claritin and pass out.

I wake up.

I watch About a Boy. My favorite scene is the one where Marcus and his mom are at the piano and singing Killing Me Softly and Hugh Grant just wants to kill himself. “The worst was when they would close their eyes….”

The metaphysical hangover kicks in. Not every man is an island. I’m more of a peninsula. Or… whatever.

I meet up with Sarah at Tapeo 29. Her friend Thu and Thu’s doctor friend from Austin join us. The conversation eventually turns to “what it’s like to date in New York.” This convo has been popping up alot and David R’s girlfriend even asked me that since she’s from the South and thus has no perception of what it is like to date someone who plays games and builds a fortress around their heart so you have no way of ever getting close to them!!!!!

Not that I know what that’s like.

But here’s the Cliffs Notes summary of dating in New York: Two people see eachother regularly, maybe even every day for a couple of months, you meet his family, you even exchange gifts on holidays, maybe in some cases he even goes to New Jersey with you for your friend’s going away party, and then one day he’s like “I’m not interested in having a serious relationship.”

No homo.

Sunday
I meet up with Ursy for some Sunday Funday. The last time we had Sunday Funday we met up with Vidya and went to Cafe Juliette in Williamsburg where our waiter hated us. It probably didn’t help that we kept calling him Boss Man behind his back.

“Hey, Boss Man, can you get us a beer?”

But then he grew to love us–at least, that’s what we thought after twenty drinks–and when we got our bill we wrote “Thanks, Boss Man” on the receipt.

He lurves us.

Anyway, so Sunday Funday. Ursy and I walk around the West Village and brunch at Ino. Their bellinis are the bomb!

Then we meet up with Sabs in Soho to watch the Euro Cup. If you’re into dudes who smoke Galoises and wear tapered jeans then West Broadway is for you.

Then I came home and watched The Jane Austen Book Club. Ummm, yeah, no homo.

Monday
Dave texts me to see if I wanna go to happy hour. I reply, “No.”

After work,I am walking home and all of a sudden I hear someone yell out my name. It is Dave. Whoops!

He is having drinks outside and invites me to join him. “It’s my treat,” he says.

So we drink some Belgian beers and gnosh on some burgers.

See, this is the good part about avoiding your friends. When they see you they will treat you to drinks and dinner because they are so grateful you are not turning them down.