Lessons learned re: partyin
Well, this weekend I learned that there is no point in holding back on the drinking because you expect to ‘get some ‘work’ done’ when you go home. Friday I planned to cut myself off after the free drink period ended at The Phoenix, where Miami Horror played. But those ended up best laid to waste plans when this photographer started talking to me and I subsequently got 2 more free, yet strong drinks. The drinks were free, yes, but when I ordered them they were dilute. When friends of the manager/himself ordered them they were strong. However I was trying to cut the costs anyway, so I still wouldn’t have ordered more drinks. Incidentally when the free drinks ended, the domestics/wells jumped to $7 a pop. So either way I would not have kept drinking, but it was an interesting experiment if you will. Because either way, whether I give myself 6 hours to sober up, or I drink all night— I’ll still have that fuzzy feeling in my head when I get home.
A brief aside- I wish everything in life could be an experiment. That we could push ourselves to the limits without consequence. Studying for tests for example. If we could just be granted a heuristic period to use, say, “method of bisection”, to vary our periods of study and extract some correlation to our test results. But I digress.
So tonight, Sunday, was another instance of weird shit I say to girls that are flirting with me. I’m dancing at Elysium with this svelte/borderline anorexic girl and one of my friends says to me “behold the power of crack”. I interpret this to mean, “I can spot a crackhead from a mile away”. And since I’ve know this guy like 4+ months now, I default to trusting him. So when I dance with her again I say something like “ok, as long as you haven’t been smoking crack”. Well turns out that she “abhors drugs” and was just really drunk after “6 shots”. (oh geez, 6 shots? she will be throwing up at some point tonight). Apparently this was a bad night for her as so many people have been “talking shit about her”. And really, what’s the big deal? If she whips out a crack pipe and asks if I want a hit and “oh by the way, I’m almost out, and I need some more, but I’m outta cash”…I got my own wheels. I can just take off/make some stuff up “oh, I’m really cravin some Flamin’ hot cheetos (oh you have those in your pantry?…damn uhhh)”
I guess another thing I learned was how to recognize when it’s just an off-night at a dance club. First thing, it rained hard during the day. I don’t know what it is about people but if it rains at some point in the day, regardless whether it’s raining when it’s ‘go time’ they’re like “ewwwhhh, i don’t wanna go out”. Second thing, you can actually see the floor. Well at 12:30-ish I assumed that the night was just gettin started and that more people would be arriving. Yah, but not that many.
But seriously, what else would I do with my Sunday night? No seriously, tell me. I wanna know. I want to know what is as fun as gettin semi-drunk and dancin to 80’s tunes? Tell me, and I’m there.
