DABA Tidbits

On Sunday I stopped by Kingswood, the somewhat new Australian restaurant/pub in the West Village, to join a few guy friends in some day drinking. See, in New York it’s totally acceptable for 33 yr old men to get crunk mid afternoon. The bar was practically empty aside from my intoxicated friends. But again, this being New York, of course I had to know the only two other people there, two of my fashion PR girlfriends. Hopefully they were too busy scarfing down their burgers and fries (don’t worry girls, your secret’s safe with me), to notice the ridiculous-ness that I was now part of. 

I wasn’t planning on partaking in the booze fest, I just wanted to do a quick fly by on my way to The Enclave (a one bedroom apartment that houses three of my girlfriends) where a super catty narrative of the Oscars’ red carpet looks was underway.  The fellas somehow construed this as a condemnation of their own lifestyles and so concentrated their efforts on bringing me down to their level:

Keith: “What? You’re not going to drink with us?? We’re 15 in- you need to catch up. Now!”

Sam: “We’ve been here since 11, and it’s now, let’s see…uh, where’s my watch?”

Todd (wearing Sam’s watch thanks to a string of rock, paper, scissor wins against Sam 3 hours back): “Sh*t, it’s 4! Dude, we’ve been drinking for 5 hours.”

Keith, to the bartender: “Order her a bloody mary, and another vodka tonic for me.”

Sam (to me): “Hey wait, what’s with the Nalgene bottle?  Hahaha, did you bring your own vodka, you little Recessionissta you!”

Me: “Oh, yeah, that. I’m on a juice fast.”

Silence 

Me again (or rather my alter-ego Chatty Cathy, who doesn’t know when to leave an awkward silence alone): I didn’t have anything else to do this weekend soooooo I figured why not starve myself for two days?  I know, I know, I promised I would stop dieting  just for sport, but I’m trying to not to shop so I needed to do something productive to fill the void, which is why…I should probably stop talking now…It’s called the lemonade diet.”

Kevin: “Oh yeah my buddy at work just did that.”

Me: “No way! Get out of town! (I realize only after I say this that my incredulous-ness was a bit out of proportion to the statement. Thankfully, the guys take pity on me and refrain from calling me out on it) A guy at your office just did the lemonade diet- don’t you work at Goldman? I though Goldman harbored all of the guys’ guys in finance.”

Todd (who works in media is overjoyed to be presented with yet another opportunity to make fun of Keith): “Hahahahahhaaaa, because now that they don’t have their bonuses to impress girls with they’re trying to get rid of their seamless web induced pear shaped bodies.”

Sam: “HA! remember that one guy we used to work with? He was so pear shaped his custom-made shirts from Thailand were tight at the collar, flared at the waist!”

(Me, in my head, suddenly self-conscious about my hips: “Guys know the term pear shaped???”)

Kevin: “Rock bottom when you work at Goldman and have to actually be in shape to get hot girls.”

Everyone takes a hearty gulp of their drink.

Todd (concerned that his days of mooching off Keith and Sam are numbered): “So, whose Amex is this bill going on anyways?”