get bent part II
Day six of the bender went off without a hitch... except that the pieman didn't show up for his own birthday drinks [i suppose it's entirely possible that i got the day wrong --an excusable error due to the previous days of, and aforementioned, boozing]. but no harm done; it just got us out on the sauce a little early...
having downed a single shot of tequila on wednesday, our custom was to add one for each passing night. this meant a quota of four for saturday. simply put: we had to hit at least four establishments... though i'd been drinking the pints all week, i opted instead for the gin & tonic chaser. it seemed like it would be easier for the ensuing morning...
after toasting the absent pieman at HIS bar on HIS birthday (or...uh....maybe not), we bailed and headed to the cameron house. this place easily wins the prize for the sleekest, sexiest glassware of our weeklong journey [no point]. we tipped back a shot and a cocktail & went looking for somewhere trashier. the 'shoe. perfection. BOY was playing, bringing back cloudy memories of perfect smiles at lava lounge last year... but fuck the cover charge. so we sucked back another shot & another g&t, and chatted up my favorite of toronto bartenders [teddy, if you're reading this --and i know you're not-- i love ya, man].
as we headed out to our final destination, the underground, we crossed though the club district and it became apparent that there are different types of drinkers in the world. people that drink for sport (us), and people that drink to be seen (them). it has been awhile since i've been surrounded by so many club-goers but sequins, spike heels & cologne are all, apparently, still 'in'.
the underground was chaotically enjoyable. a strange cast of characters were present on the dancefloor, which happened to be decidedly close to where we perched with our drinks. there was this lecherous asian dude rubbing up against...well... pretty much anyone. there was a ridiculously attractive busguy with metal in his face. but the most entertaining was the white-trash blonde glaswegian girl who was entirely unabashed about playing airguitar from her knees...
we got drunk. we danced. we laughed...
ah, yes. day 6 was a success.
"and God completeth by the seventh day His work which He hath made, and ceaseth by the seventh day from all His work which He hath made." (Genesis 2:2).
ie: we both agreed we were far too shattered sunday to make it thru another night of this bullshit.
[oh, and clearly i'm going to hell from the hubris...]
having downed a single shot of tequila on wednesday, our custom was to add one for each passing night. this meant a quota of four for saturday. simply put: we had to hit at least four establishments... though i'd been drinking the pints all week, i opted instead for the gin & tonic chaser. it seemed like it would be easier for the ensuing morning...
after toasting the absent pieman at HIS bar on HIS birthday (or...uh....maybe not), we bailed and headed to the cameron house. this place easily wins the prize for the sleekest, sexiest glassware of our weeklong journey [no point]. we tipped back a shot and a cocktail & went looking for somewhere trashier. the 'shoe. perfection. BOY was playing, bringing back cloudy memories of perfect smiles at lava lounge last year... but fuck the cover charge. so we sucked back another shot & another g&t, and chatted up my favorite of toronto bartenders [teddy, if you're reading this --and i know you're not-- i love ya, man].
as we headed out to our final destination, the underground, we crossed though the club district and it became apparent that there are different types of drinkers in the world. people that drink for sport (us), and people that drink to be seen (them). it has been awhile since i've been surrounded by so many club-goers but sequins, spike heels & cologne are all, apparently, still 'in'.
the underground was chaotically enjoyable. a strange cast of characters were present on the dancefloor, which happened to be decidedly close to where we perched with our drinks. there was this lecherous asian dude rubbing up against...well... pretty much anyone. there was a ridiculously attractive busguy with metal in his face. but the most entertaining was the white-trash blonde glaswegian girl who was entirely unabashed about playing airguitar from her knees...
we got drunk. we danced. we laughed...
ah, yes. day 6 was a success.
"and God completeth by the seventh day His work which He hath made, and ceaseth by the seventh day from all His work which He hath made." (Genesis 2:2).
ie: we both agreed we were far too shattered sunday to make it thru another night of this bullshit.
[oh, and clearly i'm going to hell from the hubris...]
posted by walkinvisible at 11:48 PM
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