So y’all might be a bit mad at me. At the time of writing this post, I have 0 pictures of my day-drunk debauchery. In my defense, I was drunk as shit and didn’t want to risk trying to operate my phone in that state. I’m sure there’s some pictures of me floating out there somewhere. If I find some, I’ll update this post when I can, provided I still care #edgy. The consolation prize will be photos from the NAIAS (Detroit Auto Show) so deal with it.
Check out Part 2 first for bonus points.
What a fucking weekend (Saturday) friends. I honestly don’t know where to begin. I will preface this story by saying extreme self-awareness is the edgiest of the double-edged swords. Never have I spanned such a range of emotions in one day. Humanity is ass.
Anyway, the event started at about 1 and I showed up around 1:15ish or so after having a interesting conversation with my Lyft driver about pill mills, celebrity overdoses, and our experiences with Lyft thus far. Great guy, I hope to see him around someday. And in case y’all didn’t notice, I did dress up as a narwhal. Amazing, I know. So I walk into the check-in bar and there’s a fair amount of people standing in line. Not to mention the 15 or so people I saw in full costume heading to the venue as well. They weren’t lying when they said the venue was sold out. I step into the main area and there’s at least 100 people mingling about while looking fantastic. The Green Ranger, a guy with giraffe head on top of his own head, tigers, lions, bears, unicorns, sharks, flying squirrels (jealous), you name it. The whole animal kingdom was ready to turn the fuck up.
Being the solo unicorn-dolphin that was I was, I decided to size up the crowd and see what group I felt inclined to assimilate into. Super awkward for about 10 minutes then I stumbled into a group that really liked my onesie. We chatted it up for a bit and judging by the banter, conversation, and the fact that two of the guys there literally got their onesies that morning, (Cat in the Hat, hilarious) I knew I made the right choice. One of girls from the group was celebrating her birthday so that was dope. I opted to check out one of the drink specials that they had going on for us onesie people. If I recall correctly, the name of the drink was “Don’t Tell Mom” or something to that effect. The birthday girl heard it tasted like shit, but I decided to roll the dice. Some guy in front of me that ordered the same thing said it tasted like a Bomb Pop from the ice cream trucks of yore. And considering he was a chunky man, I felt confident in his assessment. So I got it.
Now, I don’t know what antifreeze tastes like, but I’m sure whatever the fuck I spent $4 on was probably close to it. Yuck. But I played it cool and drank it because I was on a mission to get toasted. I mingle with my new friends for a while, connecting with the black dude of the group who is absolutely hilarious. Good-looking guy too and I could tell he gave 0 fucks as he loudly commented on various things, all of which had me in stitches.
He was proof that all black people know all black people. We hit it off immediately. We dip out to our next destination which we passed and ended up at another bar within the radius for onesie folk. This was a mistake as the bouncers/security/god-complex midgets there really had a stick up their asses. I’d rather not dry-hump the guy in front of me so the aisles are clear, which they already were. Not to mention the bar tenders were spreading false information about what drinks were available. I was really looking forward to that “Slumber Party” drink, but I had to settle for “Strawberry Shortcake”, which in retrospect, I should have gone for the “Barbie’s Castle Drink,” shame, shame, shame. Needless to say, we didn’t stay long, but my new friends hooked me up with my drink and we met two sisters. I shot the shit with one of them about tattoos and such because hers were excellent. She’s also important for another reason later on.
So we ditch the Nazis at that bar for the one next door where the story really unfolds. Mind you, I’m getting high-fives, compliments, and such as much as I’m giving them. Everybody really was on point for this thing, it was impressive. Anyway, I decide to buy my new friends a round of drinks in celebration of the birthday girl. The two sisters tag along and I ask Ms. Tattoo what she wants. She leaves for what I thought was to the bathroom so I say fuck it, I’ll get her a White Gummy Bear mixed shot like I’m having. I booze up the crew, we say our cheers, and I knock my shot back. Ms. Tattoo still isn’t back so I’m looking around. Birthday girl asks me what the drink is in my hand and I say “White Gummy Bear.” She asks to try it and in my head I’m like “Well shit, this is not really for either of us, but let’s roll with it.” She takes a sip and says it’s great, so I play it off as though I bought two for myself and finish it. Oh well.
Mind you, the two sisters are still nowhere to be found so I don’t feel too bad. Then suddenly, Homeboy (my new black friend), makes a bee-line for a table where two girls were sitting. I was trying to figure out what was going on then I realized what I needed to do. They were both fire, excellent specimens of the female diaspora for sure. So as he buttered one of them up, I decided to get in where I fit in. Homeboy certainly was not single and he admitted as such, so I chimed in and confessed he was (now) my wingman, so they didn’t think he was a horndog. We make eye contact and he nods. We continue shooting the shit, talking about their onesies that I didn’t realize where onesies until I looked down. Scantily clad, but very tasteful. It was alluring for sure. But, in classic fashion, the one I felt most attracted to was on the other side of the god damn table. Granted they were both beautiful, so I laid it on thick with the Red while Homeboy kept Blue entertained. At some point, Ms. Tattoo shows up to mingle with the four of us. Red and Blue say they’re gonna grab a drink and they’ll be right back. Excellent, now Homeboy and I can review the game plan.
I was banking on Ms. Tattoo not being interested in me so we could get this ball rolling, to which I think was the case. If it wasn’t then whatever. So in the midst of us planning how I’m gonna sneak away with one or both of them, Ms. Tattoo (white girl), says “This nigga <the rest doesn’t matter>,” to Homeboy. I was pretty tipsy so I’m not 100% that she said it, but the look I exchanged with Homeboy confirmed that she probably said it, but we (at least I) was having trouble looking at the bigger picture. I started to call Ms. Tattoo out, but Red and Blue had sat back down at this point. Causing a scene now would jeopardize the mission. Ain’t first or the last time this would happen, so I just swallowed my conflicted feelings.
Homeboy does a smooth exit and I finally get some play with Blue as Red is chopping it up with Ms. Tattoo. I learn a fair amount from both of em and hang around for a bit, easily keeping the conversation going. Then they mention that there’s an upstairs part to the bar and that they’re probably gonna check it out. I was faced with a dilemma: ditch my new friends for this kind of Hail Mary attempt or let Red and Blue slip away for my new crew. So I asked Red and Blue if it was cool if I tagged along as I was curious as well. They said sure. Success. I asked them to wait while I told my new homies dueces. I exchange numbers with Homeboy and tell him the deal. He says “do what you gotta do bro. Handle yours. If I don’t hear from you, I know what it is!” We do the black-man handshake and I head upstairs with Red and Blue.
Apparently we stepped into a nightclub upstairs. Low lights, booming music, drunk people gyrating on each other. Yeah, definitely the club. Red, Blue, and I get our groove on, people watch, and generally have a good time. We’re running low on the buzzing action so we head over to the bar. I offer to get a round, but Blue says it’s cool, she got it. I don’t argue and let it ride. Thinking I was going to have to sign another receipt, Blue offers to buy me a drink too. Well damn, don’t mind if I do. It’s 2018 after all right? That also means she is alright with my presence so far, a positive note indeed. I just might have a shot. After a bit more of dancing and avoiding drunk people, Red and Blue have to hit the bathroom. All good. I figured it was a legitimate need to tinkle plus girl-talk/situation assessment if anything. What happened when they returned would determine whether or not I would be seeing either of them again. To which the feelings of panic and “I’ve been bamboozled!” settled in after what seemed like 30 minutes. Logically I knew they wouldn’t and couldn’t have ditched me considering:
- There was no exit from the bathrooms past me.
- Why would you buy a guy you’re trying to get rid of a drink? That’s some next level shit.
Overthinking and insecurity are serious business. To my great relief, they returned and mentioned leaving for some grub. Good idea ladies, good idea. Plus Blue left her credit card downstairs as collateral for her tab. We head back down and my new-crew are long-gone which was to be expected. I asked Red and Blue where they were trying to eat. They didn’t know for sure, but they’d prolly hang out for a bit longer. They had planned to go out later that night, but were going to nap first. Responsible strategy, I respect that. In an effort to not seem clingy, I mention that I was going to check out other places and probably settle on a place for grub. They said that sounds like a good idea and I ask for their numbers. There wasn’t any real hesitation from Blue so I got hers. I didn’t want to have Red feeling left out so I got hers too. Blue said to text them when I found a place to eat. I said I’d text em both in a group chat because why not. I was surprised Red initiated a hug and then Blue followed suit.
I don’t think I have to explain how good I was feeling after I walked out. What a success. And like all stories in real life, this one doesn’t have a happy ending, but a very realistic one. In retrospect, it’s good ending, but y’all tell me on Part 2.