Ya know, as a kid, grown-ups never impressed me with their liquor and their flashy money clips and drug habits. Luckily, I always had the worlds created by my fragile little imagination to keep me company and far, far away from that life of gluttonous stupidity. As a grown-up now, living in fantasy worlds (largely filled with GI Joes and Transformers blowing the holy hell out of each other) is actively discouraged, and when confronted solely with the alternatives of drinking, clubbing, fucking random people (and getting crotch-critters or unwanted pregnancies), and getting stoned out of my mind, I choose none of the above. I need something else.
Some would say videogames are the answer. While still viewed as anti-social and largely infantile by society (wrong on both accounts), what else are people like me supposed to do? Case in point, this weekend...
We go out for Rob's birthday. He just wants to sit in a quiet pub, drink, eat, and shoot the shit. Sounds good to me. Somehow, someway, and I'm not sure who (if anyone) is really to blame, we start out at a nice Italian restaurant (where I had fettucine alfredo con pollo [with chicken, for the Italian/Spanish impaired]). Fine and dandy, despite my completely umprompted colonic fireworks. At least the restaurant had nice bathrooms. Two shits later, Asher has more or less seduced the girls at the table next to us, and they decide to join us for the remainder of the night. At this point, methinks the end point of this journey should have been apparent. Asher had taken the reins and didn't look back.
From there we walked around lower Manhattan for a bit, saw Asher fall flat on the sidewalk while running drunk (two carafe's of wine will do that), Asher tried to crash a Ukrainian dance party, then we ended up heading for some hole in the wall called Lit. It wasn't scenic, it wasn't classy, it was entirely too noisy, and there was a cover charge to get into the basement. If I were a rich investment banker or whatever, I'd stop bitching about paying cover to get into places I'm pretty sure I won't like. However, that's not the reality of my life. Rob pays for me and Maria, and we all go in.
Fast forward about 20 minutes. One of the girls is kinda anxious to keep talking to me, which I don't mind, but I don't really imagine it going anywhere. She's a swell gal, I'm just a little off-put by something about her I can't quite put my finger on. Her friend has disappeared into the throng of people, along with Asher, and we're left sitting in what amounts to a dank, noisy, smoky basement where the best thing to look at is the bartender (she was hot, but kind of trashy at the same time). At this point, I was ready to get the hell out, go back home, and do ANYTHING else. It's bad when the only thing you can think about in a given situation is all the stuff you'd RATHER be doing. It was Rob's birthday, it was his show to call, but that was somehow overlooked along the way. I thought about how I wanted to spend my next birthday. The answer leapt to my mind with the utmost immediacy: LAN party.
The trains on the weekend around here run pitifully slow and infrequently, so it took us way too long to get home. I was a little cranky by then, and only had it in my to play one or two games of SOCOM II and go to bed. Then today I wake up with a migraine, possibly from the smoke and noise of the bar. Who knows.
So, I hate being a grown-up. Notice I haven't even mentioned my job in this post? The rest of the world is just so grating that I can't muster the energy to bitch about that. I'm resigning myself to chatting online and playing videogames. Those are really the only two things left I like doing anyway.
"True freedom is losing all hope."