Stumbles and the City

I'm still off online dating, and I'm still a hermit... so while these dating antidotes may be far and few in between, I'll try to humor you any chance I get.

So let me tell you a little bit about my Saturday night....

If you know me but at all, you know that 2 drinks and I'm buzzed 4 drinks and I'm officially drunk anything past that and you can almost count on me not remembering half the night (oh the joys of getting older and more responsible). So it should come to no surprise to you that after two bottles of champange (yes, bottles) 1 jello shot, 1 vodka/soda (maybe two- that's still a little fuzzy) and one other shot that I really don't remember taking though there is photographic evidence of- I'm pretty lit gone. Now, in my defense, all of this was consumed within a matter of 8 hours, but none the less down and down it went.

By the time everything was starting to come to an end, I was nowhere near my house and had no desire to make the drunken trek home. So I texted a friend that lived near where I was and asked if I could spend the night- thankfully, they agreed. But as soon as I made my slumber party plans, an equally drunk genius friend I was with decided we should try to get into the club across the street from where we were where one of our mutual friends happens to work.

Side note: I was wearing yoga pants, my grey Oregon Ducks sweatshirt and running shoes... I don't know where I got off thinking I'd be able to get in, but my liquid courage was enough to feel certain it wouldn't be an issue.

So there we are- Drunk 1 and Drunk 2 waiting in the foyer of the club waiting for the bouncer to find out if our friend is working. He comes back to tell us that she's not there, but we're persistent and say that he must be wrong so while he goes back to look a second time, we pretend that we're with a group of about 10 other guys that's walking in at that moment (without paying the $30/person cover charge, btw). Once we're in, the bouncer comes up to us and I think for sure we're busted and will be asked to leave- nope! Just laughs and points us to coat check.

Another side note: Drunk 2 and I were coming from a potluck and had a ton of leftovers with us. Have you ever asked if you could check a 6 pound Tupperware of pasta salad? It's great.

So now we're in and Drunk 2 asks me what I want to drink. I've been here before and know that the drinks are hands down the most expensive I've found in the city, but he's offering to pay so even though I know I shouldn't have any more I accept his offer (this is the first of the possible two vodka/soda's). After we finish our $25 drinks, we agree it's time to leave. So Drunk 2 and I collect my belongings... just mine. I find out the next day that Drunk 2 left their jacket and Tupperware full of pasta at coat check... it's just really starting to get good.

If memory serves me correctly, Drunk 2 and I share a cab for a few blocks (though I could have been alone, neither of us remembers clearly) and I ask the cabby to drop me off on the block that I think is my friends. At this point, my phone is dead, so I'm relying on my (fuzzy) memory to get me to my friend’s house (I've been there multiple times prior). I get out of the cab on the block that I swear is where I need to be... only, I don't see their front door anywhere.

I walk around the block for what feels like half an hour.

Nothing. I cannot find my friend’s house.

I step into a deli to ask if they have an iPhone charger so I can get the exact coordinates of my friends house, they claim not to have one. I try at least 3 other deli's, pizza places and bodegas before finally realizing a bar would be the perfect place to find a charger. Most bars have one, and thankfully, my drunken intuitions were right. So I bellied up to the bar and order a drink as I thought it would only be appropriate since they're being kind enough to charge my phone. I think.... to be honest, I know I drank water, but I may have had a vodka/soda here as well.

Anyway... dude on the stool next to mine starts chatting me up. I'm not particularly interested, but I don't want to be rude, and I need to pass the time while I wait for my phone to charge anyway.

Here is the jist of what I remember of our conversation-

me: "Where are you from?" he had a southern accent... I knew he wasn't from NY
him: "North Carolina, how about you?"
me: "Me too! Where exactly?" ok, I'm aware that I'm not from North Carolina, but I wasn't all that interested in giving this guy too much background information, and my parents and brothers live there, so it's sort of half true...
him: "Greensboro, where are you from?!"
me: "Greensboro! Small world, eh?"
me: "You have really nice teeth." -He really did!
him: "Ha! Thanks? How old are you?"
me: "How old are YOU?" - he doesn't look more than a few years older than my younger brother
him: "I'm 22. So are you going to tell me how old you are?"
me: "I'm 24."
him: "I'm not sure I believe you..."
me: "Do you want my phone number? Here's my phone number, you should call me sometime." -No. I did not give him a chance to give me an answer. And no, I was still not that interested.
him: "Ummmm, thanks. Here, here's my address. Do you want to come over?"
me: "NO! BYE!"

I promptly retrieve my phone from the bar tender and make my second attempt at finding my friend’s house.

I get lost, yet again.

But thankfully this time, I have enough juice in my phone to call them. I cannot for the life of me figure out why I cannot find the place, and make them come down stairs because I'm sure I cannot find this place without some giant flashing lights. My poor friend... I couldn't tell you what we talked about to save my life. All I know is I drank as much water as I could and passed out.

Here we are 3 days later and I still have yet to hear from Nice Teeth Guy and am pretty sure I won't. Definitely not disappointed by this either. I mean, who gives out their address?! And, he is 22. I am not 24 (thank god). I woke up feeling terrible (duh). I end up walking from my friend’s house on 83rd & 1st to the West side to get the subway home. It's a miracle I didn't throw up on my walk home.

Lesson learned here people: when you leave the house in sweats it because you don't want to go out and get crazy... so don't! HA!