“No” Doesn’t Mean Anything on a Friday Night

CHRIST ON A CRACKER, PEOPLE, LET ME TELL YOU A STORY.

So Chelsea, Emily and I go out for a few drinks Friday night, celebrating something, who really cares. After margaritas at a Columbian restaurant, we head to a bar we like. But there’s a cover for some crappy live music, and everyone in there looks like they have fathered many children, so we move on.

Next on our list is the Half-Penny Pub in Sayville, which has a cool setup and a lively atmosphere. The bartender is busy, but fun, attentive and good for a suggestion. We’re having a good time just the three of us, observing, drinking, chatting at the bar.

SuperKim

SuperKim

Enter Vinny and Frank. Vinny is an older dude. Frank is a younger, much drunker dude. The matchups have been decided – Vinny vs. Emily. Frank vs. Chelsea. Kim vs. The World.

To get right to the good part, Vinny buys Em a shot despite her saying, “I’m okay, got a full beer right in front of me.” (I decline the shot, I’m driving.) After the shot and some chatting, Vinny thinks he’s being slick when he leans behind Emily and begins his play with, “So, hypothetical situation-”

“A guy at a bar thinks this girl is cute, buys her a drink, and wants to get her number, but really wants her friends’ approval first.”

I made him repeat himself, because doesn’t that always piss you off? When you think you’re being cool and someone doesn’t understand you? “Wait, what?” So he repeats himself. And during his second run through Emily starts grabbing my knee, so the end game here is clear. This is my favorite part – where I get to be a bitch and there will be no repercussions. If I do a good job at being a bitch, I even get thanked for it. What could be better?

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Airport Diner

Late last night, after a very long day, my darling Chelsea and I went to a nearby diner to simultaneously grab food and be productive.  I had a huge report to finish for work and she had a math final to study for.

Though we got to the diner at about 8 p.m. or so, the following is a transcript of the most eventful portions of the evening.

Scene: Me on my laptop, though admittedly I don’t look like I’m doing work as I am on Twitter and Facebook tracking social media mentions.  Chelsea’s notebook and math notes are strewn about.  Quesadilla remnants and coffee cups litter the table.
 9:00 p.m.

Chelsea, who cannot focus for anything (too much caffeine probably,) settles on her mantra, repeating it to give her strength:

1-Do the stuff

2-Learn the things

3-Not fail the test

book

Aggressive.

9:17 p.m.

Mantra is slightly altered:

1-Do some of the stuff

2-Learn a few of the things

3-Consider not failing the test

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