Monday, November 24, 2008

This was a truly great weekend

Day part- I got drunk and ate really, really expensive cheese, cured meats and sandwiches with our new clients at Taverna Aventine.  Then I hopped on my bike to  go have drinks with this girl I've been talking to for the past couple of weeks.  I think we went to the only bar in the Marina I will ever be able to stand.  She works in the Marina otherwise we wouldn't have gone anywhere near that hood.  The bar was about as big a a walk in closet.  I think there were six stools because that's really all they had room for.  There were maybe 12-15 folks crammed in all dumping huge mugs of suds back into their throats.   We drank until we were silly and then rode bikes back to her house to listen to music.  

Started the day around noon.  Made a few texts, cause really, who makes calls these days.  Took a shoot and a shower and met up with Jon, Justin, Jeremy, and Pat.  and rode to Benders for beer and grub.  Benders wasn't open yet so we sat outside and waited for Yojaira to meet up.  We then headed to Whizz Burger, scarfed and then headed back for suds.  Enough suds were drank to make the conversation absolutely retarded.  Like, retarded, retarded.  So we decided to roll on over to Zeitgeist where approx. three or four pitchers were consumed.  By this time the fog was rolling in and I was still in my new cut off shorts from the toasty morning and needless to say I was getting the chills.  We all wiggled our way up to the Lower Haight, each of us heading in opposite directions as we hit Page (Rage) Street.  
After a bit of cleaning up, changing and several text messages I headed out the door to hit up the local bar, The Page.  Mind you it's only around 6pm so the bar was clear of it's usual weekend warrior douche bags which is just how I like it.  Plus, there was a really pretty bartender working and she was buying us shots.  By now it was me, Jesse, Steve, Justin, Pat, and Mansur.  Lindsey also made a brief appearance as did Bo, my always-high-on-something, down stairs neighbor.  Drinking, juke boxing, talking, laughing, yadayadaydadadya.  
Soon Guile and Brian swing buy to pick us up and take us to a "Pants Off" birthday party in the mission.  We get there and no one really has their pants off except a couple of guys and pat so we decide to hop in a cab and head back to the LH for a house party.  We end up flagging down some guy in an Escalade.  He offers kicks out his drunk friend and offers us a ride.  This guy seriously looked like that dude who always plays the role of Mexican guy in movies.  He has a big lady tattoo on his chest and the worst complexion ever.  Anyway, he drives us door to door, or bar to door and in the end we gave him like $20 bones.  The house party ended up being a bust so we just drank as much of their beer as possible and headed back out to hit the streets.  We had lost a little weight i.e. Jesse and Monsur and somehow, with out even noticing Steve disappeared.  Pat, Justin and I walk down Divis. peeking into each bar to see which looks good.  We ended up at Madrone.  I normally loathe Madrone but we were drunk and tolerant. It was just the three of us.  The day/night had been so long that it felt like we were brothers, like we'd been through everything together and nothing could tear us apart.  We were also just so drunk that we were in that joyful, cocky, act like fools because it makes your homies laugh kinda mood.  So there we were, on the dance floor, tall cans of Bud in our hands, dancing like absolute idiots.  Hugging and jumping and yelling "White girls!!!" and laughing our heads off and then dancing even harder.   We, in our minds, were the life of the party.  I was kind of shocked when girls started responding and dancing with us.  Pat eventually worked his way in between two girls and was just about to start shaking it when he hit the floor.  Needless to say we mostly just danced among ourselves.  
At last call I ran across the street to the corner store to get two cases of PBR.  Pat and Justine each had a girl in tow so I guess I decided not to go with them, though in my mind I thought that they ditched me.  I made a few calls and headed down to Second and Market to meet with Keyatta and friends for a loft party.  It sucked.  We then headed down to Potrero for a warehouse party.  I smuggled in a bunch of beer however, soon realized that I was drunk enough already.  I saw three dudes across the room and bee lined it for them simply because they looked like they might ride bikes (everyone else looked all clubbed out).  I offered up beer and we talked about messing and riding and people we know.  I have since forgotten all their names and what they looked like.
I ended up getting home around 5 or so in the morning, ate a bowl of clam chowder and fell asleep on the couch.  

Oh glorious, lazy Sunday.  I spent Sunday watching tv, eating food, and watching the worst movie I have ever seen.  Yeti, a Love Story.  Oh, god.  It's awful.  I'll leave you with the trailer.


John Sakkis said...

good post. well done.

Sakkis said...

Best weekend ever.