it's passover. i'm a jew. it follows that i should be not eating bread, pasta, candy, chips, french fries...anything, really, that doesn't come in a cardboard-like circular or rectangular shape. over the years, i've practiced varying degrees of solemn devotion to the story of god telling pharoh to back the fuck up off the chosen people. sometimes i really don't eat anything that's not K for P. sometimes i'll give myself a day or two off. sometimes i'll go sephardic and eat rice (which opens the world of chinese and indian food) -- or i'll decide "it's flat, i can eat it" in the case of such desirable foods as tortillas, pasta and corn chips (with whipped cream cheese). sometimes (i.e., this year) i do something awesome and cross passover with lent, and give up beer.
beer is made of yeast. yeast is not allowed. (so, incidentally, are scotch, whiskey, bourbon, etc.) so i've been drinking a lot of vodka and wine. it was vodka cranberries that led me from croxley ales to ace bar (where i hit a 100 on the skeeball) and finally to sing sing on thursday night for manlio's "surprise" party. it was wine that then helped me through what i can only imagine were hideous renditions of "don't stop believin'" (accompanied by xx), "sister christian" and "bust a move" (the last two songs, i must admit, were chosen for me). it was wine that convinced me that of course manlio would enjoy having "yellow" wailed at him by myself and k-fed (again, not my song choice).
it was wine that got me through the weekend at Martha's Vineyard with xy, his bro and his bro's gf. (mini recap: brisk beach bocce with people who don't understand that this is not about how far you can throw the pallino, nor should you aim for the surf; a sweet, roaring fire; a story about a 36-second-long vomit caused by broxy attempting the "i bet you can't drink a gallon of milk in an hour" dare which reduced me to tears; lots of clam chowder and two of the most idiotic fast food fuck ups to which i've ever been privy.)
so yesterday, after i had to leave work almost immediately after i got there and attend to some family business in new jersey, i was clearly in dire need of an alcoholic unwinder. broxy had mentioned over the weekend that gyc was up and running for this season and i gathered xx and the maj for a recon mission to find out if this was, in fact, true. a few hours later, after a successful visit to one of god's finer creations, the maj and i were walking down to the subway and i gasped: "oh my god, i drank beer all night!"
that's right. it's not like i got there and thought, "oh, they only have beer here, i should try to get these guys to go somewhere else" or even "well, fuck it, i've been good for like four days, i'll just do it" . no it didn't even cross my mind until i was GONE. my subconcsious clearly had other plans: "gyc is open, all bets are off".