Diversity is key// "Um, can we have our bread back?"

I've been slacking like no other. I should probably post something before I fail do to it tomorrow, which is in a couple of minutes. Last night was a GREAT night despite the fact that I decided to throw my plastic bag of vomm in our trashcan in our driveway at 3am. "You alright, Jules?" asked one of my roommates in the kitchen who saw me trying to tiptoe out with my bag of tricks. "Uhh, yeah, just taking out the trash (at 3am)." "Did you throw up?" she asked. "Uhhh, maybe? I'll be right back."

Yeahhh. I need to learn how to drink again.

***Sidenote***
I'm listening to Chelsea Lately as it plays on my TV behind me. A guest of hers has a hubby who's allergic to horses. Really? Really. I'm also veryyy annoyed right now because my stupid fuck nugget roommate lost her fucking remote control to her TV in her room. Surprisingly, she cleaned her room and it is spotless, yet she lost herrrr remote. She goes in my room and uses mine and fails to give it back. I understand her bf is here to visit but put shit back. I texted her 5 mins before coming home and she responded but now she mysteriously fell into a slumber. Blow me. She's gonna read this too. And I don't care. I love you best friend, but put things back will ya? I'm gonna get over this tomorrow but I'm annoyed right now. 

So about last night. I met up with the remote stealer in the city to go to San Genaro Feast. It's an annual Italian festival in Little Italy that takes place for 2 weeks in September. Grand Central. 6 Downtown to Canal Street. Then brisk/lost for a while walk to Mulberry. And we found ourselves in Canoli-ridden street fare. Music, games, creepers, pasta, pizza, zeppolis, sausage & peppahs etc. The works.

After being reprimanded for eating a slice of white pizza by a stranger ("Look at that pizza! What is that?" says the douchebag. "It's white pizza!" I say enthused. "That's disgusting!" he spits back. "You have a good night, sir," I say walking past him. I coulda said something like "Okay, gofuckyaself" but i didn't. Point for me).

A cup of canoli gelato later, we split a much-needed pitcher of sangria at one of the little restaurants along the strip. Our bread got taken away mysteriously after being moved to a different table. We were soo nice to do that. This was when I asked one of 3 waiters (for some odd reason) the infamous quote from above: "Um, can we have our bread back?" "Uh, yeah," said the not-so-warm old man, who than dumped butter knives onto our table shortly after.

We planned our night's events after our Frosted Flake friends bailed on us. John Krasinski Friday night part 2? Almost. We went back uptown to meet up with our other roommate who needed a night out for her own health and ours too because we haven't gone out altogether as housemates. We killed time waiting for her by spotting remote control stealer's boyfriend's fave watering hole called the Playwrights. So trendy the name, but turns out its an Irish pub but i don't care. It serves alcohol, thus it serves a purpose.

After almost shelling out $18 on 2 tequila shots, RC stealer asked the bartender if he knew so-and-so who was a friend of her boyfriend's who was working earlier, therefore making a connection to the bartender who was the coolest old Irish man with such a cute brogue and friendly personality. He helped us struggling college students out by giving us the shots on him. FREEQUILA. I like it. I'm crafty with words like that while RC stealer is crafty with people-talk. Win. I'm slowly getting over the remote control thinger but not quite yet.

I was then hit on by a thirty-looking PUERTO RICAN man who looked like a white guy. If i knew the espanol term for whatever those people are called, I'd say it. He was putting on his creeper charm, whispered in my ear how beautiful I was, kissed my hand, mispronounced my friend's name: "Hi Keeeeyla! Nice to meet you (but i really don't care)." Ohhh, Gilberto.

We hit up Aspen Bar with our other roomie who was looking ravishing. I died in Aspen Bar over the summer when RC stealer's mama came to visit the big city. I literally died in Aspen Bar's bathroom that one night, died some more outside a taxi cab window, passed out in a bush while RC stealer, her mama, and her mama's friend ate pizza. There were pictures taken and I wish I had them.

This time I didn't die in that bathroom (but later in my bedroom when I was trying to die discretely...fail). Aspen Bar was diversified as well. Italy? Check. Puerto Rico/Ireland? Check, check. India? CHECK. Aspen Bar has a Colorado-log cabin, sky resort feel to it. But it was drenched in Slumdog Millionaire last night. I wish Jai Ho came on. We spent a stupid amount on one drink then decide to hunt for drinks at a bar that Gilberto (Puerto Rico) said he was going to for a friend's bday. I figured we could hunt him down and have him and the rest of the Puerto Rican country buy us drinks. The recession causes college students to act desperately. Do I care? Fuck no. Work hard to play hard, my friends.

We hit up Tonic, got random VIP passes (aka free entry into a bar desperately looking for customers), go through culture shock yet again at the Mulato, Afro-centric, south of the border atmosphere. Another round of tequilla (teKILLa) later and we make it downstairs to watch some Aussie Rules Footy on the big screen (I miss OZZZZZZ). We sat at a table waiting for some crows to come hither and after about 15 mins we decide to get up but WAIT! 3 guys at the bar turned around and the leader of the pack said, "You girls look bored! What's wrong with this picture?" My one roomie Gi says, "I'm straightedge." This works because they treat her, kayla, and i to irish car bombs and another mixed drink each. The one guy was americano, his one friend was from BRAZIL (hottieeeee. "OH! Brazil, huh?" I said enthusiastically, which RC stealer notices and begins to laugh at my love of diversity/sexy men with accents), and his other friend was a man named Tokes who was born in Nigeria.

"Guys, guys!" Tokes said to us 3 fiiiine ladiez, "It does not matter if we know each other that well. But we have to have fun tonight! And maybe know each other's last names later on in the night." Huuuuh? He said this in his Nigerian accent. I nod my head and keep drinking. Our table soon turns into a melting pot when a random, strange little Chinese wangsta wannabe comes over and starts talking nonsense to Gi. He needed to lay off the sugar or the speed, whichever he was on. And THENNNN, we were greeted by 2 CUTE AUSTRIAN BOYS who were in NYC for a week. They explain to us that the little chinese guy followed them to Tonic and had no idea who he was. They were so frickin cute and I made friends (and soon to be Facebook fwiends) with one of them while Gi entertained the other. Oh ma ga, is all I can say. Fucking precious. The 3 car bomb boys knew they couldn't hold our attention compared to the cute surfer-like austrian puppies who were more interesting to talk to. We left a little after for Playwrights to say hello to PJ, our fave Irish bartender, who surprised RC stealer and I with 2 lovely concoctions and our one Austrian baby, Sebastian (my lurvvve) with a Heineken.

We bid them adieu on our way to Gwand Central. I really didn't want to leave, they were so cute. But crew practice was calling and so was my bed. We rode the train back and the alcohol hit me like the Metro North when I reached my bed. Ugh. So today, I was hung well the fuck over. But as my super-quoted post is titled, diversity is key to any wonderful/random/entertaining night out. You don't know who you'll cross paths with, but it's important to learn more about different cultures...and their drinking habits :)