Saturday, June 14, 2008

Thursday Evening's Outing: Busted Night, Busted Knee

As you know, Lucy and I headed out to the supposed "birthday celebration" for DMC (from Run DMC) on Thursday night, and holy crap, was this not one of the worst planned events I've ever shown up to.

The bartenders at The Plumm, first of all, had no idea that there was supposed to be open bar. Do you think Adri Leya and Lucy Vonne show up to events this early because we have nothing better to do? No. I told the bartender to go ask her manager about it, because, hell, we didn't come all the way out to 8th Ave to pay $15 a drink. The girl returned saying that she guesses it is open bar and that the free beverage would be well vodka. Well vodka? Not so well. There's a reason why it's called "well," because it tastes like it's pulled up via bucket and rope from the underground.

We left the venue immediately, at the chagrin of the four other attendees - hoochies draped over the couches, sipping their fruity drinks, waiting for DMC to arrive so they could hump his leg.

We needed to rid ourselves of the douchebag smell from The Plumm, so we headed off to a dive bar a few buildings over, which, in reality, is where Lucy and I feel most comfortable - thank you, Boston, for setting our standards. Donning my black skirt and super-high red heels, we traipsed triumphantly through the door of the dive - and I took a dive. It was one of the greatest tripping sequences I've ever had, frankly. My heel got stuck in one of the three stairs going down into the bar, and my feet hit the ground several times, but each time I would scramble for balance but end up still falling. I think the actual fall took a good thirty seconds, which is an incredible feat. I was the primary entertainment for the twenty-five or so bar patrons, and I was proud.

With bruised knee and ego, we subwayed it home about an hour later and ended up eating organic popcorn and watching some new porn movie she got from work. Here's hoping that the next event isn't such a bust.

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