We get up every day for unique experiences, at least I'm pretty sure no one gets up hoping for a similar routine every day (Professional Lapdance-Getters Aside...cuz they exist). These unique experiences pepper and enrich our lives, shaping who we are and what we want out of our existence. I brought about a unique experience for several close friends this weekend. When planning an open bar for my birthday, because I wanted to take a year off from the standard McDonald's/magician combo, I contacted a guy I know who bartends at what I considered to be a pretty cool place. He said he could get me an open bar at not that bar, but the other bar he worked at. Hey, not bad, it's probably an equally cool place...why should I think otherwise, right?
Here are the reasons I should have thought otherwise:
- As I walked in, three guys who looked like Spencer Pratt stood at the bar with mojitos.
- As I asked who to talk to about the open bar, I was told "the guy at the front with the ponytail."
- It was in Murray Hill
- The manager explained to me that the open bar would begin at 10, "when the tv's go off, the lights dim, and we turn on the disco ball."
- The manager looked like Jeff Probst
- I had not realized at the outset that I was sharing this open bar with a "hot chick". I guess I was expected to just get an instant, uncontrollable boner when I heard this news, as the manager was very excited to tell me. However...
- Hot chicks are friends with tools, and...
- Tools travel in packs.
- The acquarium in the back which consisted of two of the most miserable looking turtles I've ever seen. I guess turtles never really look happy, but these turtles were miserable. I feel ya turtles.
- The manager asked me at one point what I wanted to drink, and heard my "Jack and coke" as "Jack and cock". Hilarity ensued. For him. For three solid minutes.
- "I didn't know if this was the right place. You'd never come here" was the first thing at least twelve of my guests said upon arrival.
- "We're...gonna get going" was the second thing at least fifteen people said upon arrival.
- Identifying my guests amidst the hot chick's guests was fairly easy. If I didn't see a blowout or bleached blonde hair in a particular spot, I assumed my friends were standing there.
- They had a plainclothes bathroom attendant. I started using a ladyfriend's Purell just to avoid him.
- The Yankees won, on a popup error, against the Mets, the game of which played on the one television that was still turned on. With guidos primarily split between Jersey/Long Island, there was nobody indifferent about that game, and they all expressed themselves. A "Let's Go Yankees" chant broke out, despite the fact that the game had just ended, and the television now had post-game lockeroom analysis.
- Lotsa Bon Jovi on the jukebox. Lotsa.
I have since been going around like an obligated sex-offender, apoligizing to any and all friends who attended. For in their own way, they were all violated and shall never truly be the same. However, their lives have also been secretly enriched, as none of them would have ever willingly been put in a similar situation. How's that for a shitty silver lining?
So, back to Mickey D's and balloon animals next year.
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