Yes, I steal tables.

It's time for another episode of Thursday night debauchery recap.

First off, let me start by saying that yesterday was gorgeous. Pretty much perfect weather, if not a little cool. DRASTICALLY different from last week's episode of Thursday night debauchery. It was so hot last week that I melted as I sat outside. I even put my hair up temporarily because it was stifling.

After getting my nails done with The Mexican and VWR, I went to Honey. B and I were supposed to meet at 7:15 or so. She asked me to get her a shirt on my way because she was wearing her work shirt and forgot a change of shirt, yet again.

I picked up a shirt for her in Union Square and then started walking down to Honey, slowly because she wasn't responding to my messages. I got there just after 7:15 and had a message from B saying she was around the corner.

I chatted with the doorman for a little while - my best buddy - and noticed that there were no seats outside. I scolded Doorman for not reserving us a table, because he knew that we would be coming. It was a joke, but in all honesty, he should've. I will be calling Maitre'D in the future to do just that. I got his number later on in the night. They really do love us there.

The reason I mention the table situation is that there were these two women sitting at one of the tables while I was waiting for B and talking to Doorman. They got up and I was on it. I asked them if they were coming back and the girl mumbled something about "possibly coming back" and when I said "what?" to clarify, she walked away. I took the table.

I sat there for almost 15 minutes before the girl came back and was like "This was our table, we just went to get a hookah." Excuse me for a second here miss. Your whole party got up, and took your drinks with you. You disappeared for 15 minutes, and when I said "what" because I didn't hear you, you chose to ignore me. Basically, I'm going to ignore you now. I sat there, and she eventually skittered away. She tried to tell Maitre'D and he looked outside, saw me, and essentially shut her down. Bye bitch!

B FINALLY showed up at 8pm. I wanted to kill her at that point because I had been waiting so long, and I hadn't had a drink yet because I couldn't get up from the table to go to the bar and the waitress was THE WORST. I had been there over an hour before I had to get the bus boy to get the waitress. I ordered 4 Watermelon Martinis for B and 4 Cosmos for me. The girls next to me laughed and I told them that there was a reason I was ordering in bulk. Happy hour was almost over. They weren't really laughing at me, but they definitely thought I was nuts...until the waitress didn't come back for almost a half hour and they had to go to the bar to pay their bill and get other drinks.

The waitress came back about two minutes after I gave her my order to write down what I wanted. She said "You said 4 strawberry margaritas, right?" Um, no. I don't know who the hell she was listening to when she got THAT order, but definitely not me. I spoke super slowly after that to make sure she got the order right. It took about a half hour to get the drinks, and this was with prompting from the Maitre'D again. We started drinking rapidly.

Our first order

By 8:45 we were each breaking into our second drink. We decided we were going to order another round at the bar. We found the Floor Manager, who I adore, and she was working the bar. I ordered the 8 more drinks with her and asked her if she could just add them to my tab and send them outside. She agreed. I feel bad for her, because she was SWAMPED.

It was packed there that night, so it took another 15+ minutes to get our next round. This worked out because we were almost done with the first round when it finally came.

However, the owner was there that night. He is an ass (we discovered) and they had to close the window wall to the inside because of noise complaints, which was fine. But also, he said we all had to clear out of the outside area. I guess he got fined $10,000 last week or something because of people outside. Probably because of the fight and the police and all that jazz. Doorman convinced him to let us stay another half hour to drink the drinks that had JUST been delivered to us. We were the only ones allowed to stay outside.

B finished her drinks and I got down to my last 1.5 before we were forced inside. That's fine though. It was time to dance anyway. We got the bill and the only thing that was on it were our first 8 drinks, at $5 a pop. God I love Floor Manager.

Oh yeah, at one point I went to go use the facilities and saw my bestie, Senegal (who later "yelled" at me for calling him that because I didn't know his name. He called me Melissa until I learned his name. Ironically, it's the same as mine, except pronounced COMPLETELY differently.) I made him let me use the men's room because I refused to wait. He just shook his head at me as I took the paper towel from him to scrub stuff with before I squatted anyway. I used the men's room twice that night. On my way downstairs to the restroom though, I ran into Floor Manager and asked her if there was anywhere I could put my bag. She took the whole thing and put it in the back room so I didn't have to worry about it. It was THE BEST!

B and I were pretty much wasted. I actually left to go get a slice of Pizza and I came back. I hadn't eaten since lunch. I was going to order food at Honey, but with the snail pace service, I didn't even bother.

When I came back, still trashed, B and I were dancing. Unfortunately, I put my arm down and hit this girl's drink onto the floor. It was half of a patron margarita. It was her birthday (B checked her ID to confirm), so we went to the bar to replace the drink. B got one for the girl and one for herself, and I got a Long Island. I don't think that we paid for those drinks either, unless B did...

B thought that it was silly to give the girl a whole drink because I only knocked over half a cup, maybe. So we drank some before giving it to her.

Our drinks were incredibly strong that night. 

I don't think I drank ANY of the Long Island. I was housed. I ended up going back to see Senegal and in the restroom I poured out the bottle of water I had and poured in the Long Island. Yeah I lost some in transition, but I maintained a good portion of it that is now sitting in my room at home. Senegal and B were having this long involved conversation about pulling strings to get him into school and blah blah blah. We always find the needy ones. It was cute. I promised to look into what I could do. I think he's only on a visa so he needs to find a school to go to or something.

I guess B said she was ready to go, so we got ourselves together and went to the train. We might've stopped for pizza again. Come to think of it, I don't remember getting to the train station or getting on the train. I don't think I had to wait long though and it was only a brown out, because I have bits and pieces of it in my memory.

I did not miss my stop. On my way to my house I ran into OhD, who was also smacked. I told him to just come back to my house and go to sleep. He obliged. It was stupid of him to think he didn't want to do just that.

Of course I texted Steel Pans, but nothing dirty like I usually do. Basically, "Are you coming over?" The answer was "Leave the back door open." So I did.

It was about 1am. I told my mother who was sleep-watching tv, to go to bed, vomited my life up, and went into my room. Got into my PJs and the next thing I remember is waking up next to Steel Pans, naked.

I think I remember the sex. One can't be too sure though. I have one or two flashes of our throes of passion.

I woke up surprisingly un-hungover. My stomach is still not happy, but at least my body didn't feel like I was beaten like a red-headed step child (my aunt actually has one of those...)

Minor sidenote: House Manager told us we had to come another night and not just on Thursdays, he cut her finger and was at the ER that day, but she stopped by at some point during the night. Floor Manager told us we had to come on Wednesday for Bachata lessons because there are never enough women. B agreed. I'm going to be a hot mess. I CANNOT Bachata. I will go though, because I am loyal and they are wonderful.

Thus concluding another episode of the Thursday night debauchery chronicles.

Another sidenote, Delta texted me. He makes no sense. Let's play "decipher this":