Last night Ari (my girlfriend) and I went out to a bar in the Lower East Side. It wasn’t the kind of place that either of us like, but she was meeting some friends there and I was gonna have some drinks there until I met my friends at another bar.
When we arrived the bouncer at the door informed me that I had to pay a $15 cover. Of course, the girls I was with did not have to pay anything.
But I get that.
Men are pretty much universally uglier to look at than women – so there you have it – I was $15 dollars down before stepping into a bar that I didn’t even want to go to.
This did not bode well for the bar.
Once inside, my god, I had never seen so many guys wearing striped button-down shirts and women wearing Forever 21 outfits in my life. It was disturbing.
This made me even more angry.
Then, when Ari and her friend checked their coats, I said that I was keeping mine because I was leaving soon anyway.
The bouncer at the coat check – yes, a bouncer at the fucking coat check – informed me that it was a mandatory coat check. Mandatory? What, if I keep my coat on somehow I’ll upset the sea of 21 year-old dudes wearing American Eagle?
Despite my intense anger, I gave my coat to the coat check woman.
Another $2 dollars.
I looked at the bouncer.
I was not a happy person.
Finally – after some drinks and shots were consumed – and we made fun of some girls who had apparently forgotten that it was not okay to do little kicks while punching the air when dancing, I got the call from my friend and I left.
This was the moment I had been waiting for.
As I walked out, I noticed that the line to get in was about thirty people deep now.
I looked for a cab, turned to the line, and by the power vested in me by Petron, I yelled, “Don’t go! This place sucks! I’m telling you turn around! It fucking sucks! Save your striped button-downs for another night!!!”
The people and the bouncers were not amused.
I climbed into a cab and we had to drive back by the bar. Once again, I wound down my window, hung my head out of the cab and screamed that the bar was horrible – laughing like an idiot the entire time.
As I went to meet my friend, the radio in the cab was playing “Under the Milky Way,” which is an Awesome Song, so my mood got better.
I smiled to myself and thought, “You know, I really am a pretty fun guy.”