Dmbosstone: I promised myself I’d stay dry this weekend
Dianaketo: HAHAHA! I plan on getting blitzed.
That pretty much sums up my weekend, it’s always tough to say you’re going to take a weekend off because when you do, everybody else decides to party harty.
Well that’s what I did and I was pretty good at doing it. Friday I popped in Iron Man and enjoyed a guilty dinner of Popeyes chicken. I missed the taste of red beans and rice. Saturday I finally caught up with blogging and proceeded to work off all the Popeyes I ate the night before, however the food I ate at the Anderson Family Weenie Roast did a good job at negating the workout. Overall I kept a low profile (except for two hours on Saturday night thanks to Caroline), because four straight weekend of debauchery means I’m resting til the 4th of July. Plus I gotta save some cash after last weekend’s antics.
Last Friday I went out to the Blue Jays/Nationals game with Rebecca and Adam, the game went into extra inning and I was tired so I went back home after the 9th. Despite my original intentions to stay in, I found myself back at home where Sarah and Mike had friends over for drinks. Next thing I know I’m getting dressed and we headed out to Jay’s Saloon, our new summer hotspot. Originally known as the shady bar next to our house (literally next to our house), we decided to have a roommate happy hour there and we discovered it’s an amazing place. It’s our new MacLaren’s.
Well after a walk around Clarendon, our crew sloshed back to the home but not before stopping at 7/11 to fulfill our drunken munchies. I saw Mike’s friend Jake buyout ALL the Taquitos on display. I guess he’s a big fan. The choice wasn’t popular with the drunken crowds that were also after some greasy, fatty, semi-Mexican goodness. Jake happily stuffed his face in line as the crowd jeered him for taking all the Taquitos.
On the way home from the the great Taquito heist, we took notice to a half-full can of Yuengling on the street, a fallen soldier in the war known as Friday night. Jake and Mike picked it up, arguing if it was beer or ginger beer. When confirming the identity of the can, they dropped kicked it into the street… hitting a Porsche convertible that was rounding the corner onto our street.
The douchebag driving the car wasn’t happy.
He pulled the Dane Cook move of feeling the imaginary damage to his car and then walked over to give us a piece of his mind. I was ready to back them up but the last fight I got in the middle of was years ago and my glasses are still broken from that encounter. Luckily we walked away unharmed and the d’bag drove away with the hot girl he was with.
And that was only Friday.
Saturday didn’t shape up to be any calmer.
I decided to hit up PQ’s housewarming party where I ran into f.B. Several cups of jungle juice later I was making my way through the ghetto that is Northeast DC to Ozio to meet up with Rebecca, Adam, Amanda, and Mattie.
A parked cab offers me a ride and when I gladly accepted and he then referred me to his friend that was parked next to him. However his friend was driving an unmarked blue station wagon with resident plates. I immediately questioned him on his legitimacy as a DC Taxi driver and the cabbie’s friend told me he was, “an independent DC driver.” I then threw him a lowball price to drive me downtown and he agreed- so I took the shady cab car.
I feared for my life and kept my hand on the passenger side door- ready to duck and roll if needed. At least it would be a good story for the bar. The cabbie was probably sixty something with a stray dog in the back, so I wasn’t too afraid of him- or maybe I should of been. Jungle juice makes me very trusting. The blur on his dashboard on the left- that was his bible. At least he was a man with faith.
After throwing him some dollars I ran out of the Taxi into Ozio where I enjoy a night of more drinks with the crew.
Around 1:30 or so I got messages from Maxie who I knew was out with LiLu and Cavy having a good time. I was suddenly convinced that it would be a great idea to meet up with them at Bourbon. I hailed another Taxi and made me way to M street. I thought that where Bourbon was. After entering what I thought was Bourbon I realized I paid a cover and walked into Saloun. I then hailed another taxi and spent what little I had left in my wallet to get to Bourbon up the hill on Wisconsin Ave. Even though I finally made it to the Bourbon in Glover Park. They were at the Bourbon in Adams Morgan.
This is why you don’t overbook yourself.
I managed to find a fourth cab to take me back home. I woke up with substantially less money and vowed never to party again.
Well at least til 4th of July.