Tag Archives: tequila makes me nice

freedom and salsa

Saturday night Ari and I decided to go to our favorite Mexican restaurant, eat lots of food and drink so many margaritas that we’d laugh uncontrollably at each other’s jokes.

We settled in to a nice table outside and began eating and drinking when it became apparent that there was Something Different about the man sitting at the table next to us.

We both noticed at the same time.

The man was on wheels.

No doubt he buffs these before every outing.

No doubt he buffs these before every outing.

I don’t know what would have possessed him to make him want to do this, but there he was.

He was a casually-dressed white male in his early to mid forties, wearing roller blades while eating at a restaurant.

Now Mary Ann’s is not a classy joint, so I’m not knocking the man for his lack of proper attire. I was really just stunned by the fact that because he chose skates over Keds this eve, he actually had to roll through the restaurant to get to his table.

He rolled by people eating.

He rolled by the various wait staff.

He rolled by the salsa.

He decided when he was leaving his apartment, that no matter what events unfolded in front of him, no matter where his travels took him, he would meet it all with a roll and a smile.

He laughed in the face of laces and he was not looking back.

Ari and I enjoyed his choice, and when it came time for him and the woman he was with to leave, she reached down and – to our delight – strapped on a pair of roller blades too.

We watched them roll on to their next adventure, exiting the restaurant like rolling angels.

Not a care in the world.

Just the sound of their wheels hitting the floor, the wind bustling through their hair, and nothing but the open road ahead.

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why my girlfriend thinks i’m immature

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.

Perfect.

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.”

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