first off, i give up on cameron crowe. ever since "jerry maguire", i've been more and more cynical about his movies. "almost famous" came back to his old form a little, but everything else has been rubbish. which explains why i went to see "elizabethtown" on its opening night. call me a glutton for punishment. i'm pretty sure i never want to look at orlando bloom's big, brown eyes again. suffice it to say, it was horribly schmaltzy.
we headed downtown to bar 169 for a drink. one drink too many. what is perhaps the worst band in the entire world was on when we got there, the aptly named "tiger vomit". i am a notoriously slow beer drinker--we were out of there in 15 minutes.
eventually i found myself waiting for a friend at brooklyn social club. it's been quite some time since i went to a bar on my own on a friday night. it's so interesting to watch how people respond to you. a few people came over and started chatting. one guy and i decided we would start making it impossible to let others pass between us by standing at just the wrong angle and proximity. i chatted with him and his friends for a while.
when i finally got an empty seat at the bar, the bartender looked at me and said, "i understand". i didn't, really. did he understand that i was just there waiting on a friend, contentedly watching the others around me? did he think i was being stood up, that i was 'drinking alone', that i just wanted to be left entirely alone? it made me wonder. one guy at the end of the bar kept smiling at me, despite the fact that i never smiled back. i suppose it wasn't the nicest reaction, but i didn't have the energy to talk to a stranger.
my friend arrived, and throughout the evening we were entertained by various men in various states of drunkenness offering up interesting conversation and all sorts of services. the bartender, who turned out to be super cool, was always looking out for us. when one guy, who i see at social aaaaallll the time, started talking to us, he said to me "let me know if someone's leaning over too far". it's nice when they get your back like that. i asked that guy his name, but i can't for the life of me remember. he was followed by a completely wankered brit called sammy. i suppose he was a regular as well, because the barman shot me a look when he came over that said, "just let me know..." it wasn't an if with sammy, but a when.
and it came like this: after i made some comment about the town he was from being sort of shitty (don't worry, he couldn't have cared less), he said to me, "i would have sex with you whatever you said". and that he would have, had he even a chance in hell with me or my friend, and assuming he wasn't so drunk he couldn't get it up. a few minutes later, we were still insulting the hell out of the guy when he declared, "i would love to go down on either one of you." i'm sure you know what happened next: my friend and i paid the tab, grabbed sammy and took him back to my place, where he pleasured us for the next 15 hours. actually, barman extraordinaire suggested sammy leave us alone, and he did. i was still laughing and saying, "i would love to go down on either one of you" 20 minutes later. god bless drunk people who say stupid things.
not more than 10 minutes later, some new guys had come along and for reasons beyond both my control and comprehension, i started talking to them in an irish accent. who knows?