Hello World

At the end of last week, I went to Boston to look at apartments, and walked around a lot, and saw some nice stuff and generally got used to the idea that I will probably be living there soon. It was pretty hot and sweaty, but I had an exquisite steak and baked beans at an Irish pub on Market (near Washington) and had a pretty fun time getting to know the city.

Then I took the Chinatown bus to New York. May I just state for the record that the Chinatown bus, which takes one between DC and NY or between Boston and NY for $15, is one of the most incredible deals out there. It makes it affordable and reasonable to take last-second weekend trips, and provides a far-superior alternative to train or plane travel. Love it. Can't say enough about it. This is not a paid endorsement.

Things that I did in New York that were probably bad ideas:

• Ate 6 hot dogs, one cheeseburger, 2 tacos, one caramel shake, the fried appetizer sampler and triple delight entree from the worst Chinese restaurant on the upper east side, eggs benedict, a dozen pieces of sushi, and about 8 cups of pretzels in a 48 hour period.
  
• Played a game in which we listed something we disliked about everyone in our group.
  
• Stayed out til 4am the night before my morning flight to DC.
  
• Spent dozens of dollars on drinks.
  
• Took crappy pictures of my friends in dark bars and restaurants.
  
• Got into a huge argument about where to have dinner, causing acrimony and resulting in a disasterous meal at the worst Chinese restaurant on the UES.
  
• Had a bunch of pretentious conversations about politics, real estate, and law school.
  
• Volunteered (well, grudgingly agreed) to help carry a futon up 2 flights of stairs into an apartment that lacked air conditioning, resulting in a deep and abiding sweat that didn't abate for hours of my evening.
  
• Spent way, way too much money.

Things that I did in New York that were great ideas:

• Ordered eggs Benedict.
  
• Drank a martini made with cucumber-infused vodka at Verlaine, a bar I enjoyed.
  
• Threw some darts.
  
• Didn't waste much time on the internet.
  
• Spent an awesome afternoon in Central Park.
  
• Totally dominated a nice brit in an Irish Car Bomb race.
  
• Saw a bunch of good friends and watched them act ridiculous.
  
• Took a lot of pictures.

And then I came home to DC to play softball and have dinner with my little league baseball team (this was the 10th anniversary of our final--and triumphant--season, which makes me feel really old) and watch the fireworks (more pics).

I am currently planning a trip that will take me to Boston, Providence, and New York City. Specifically, Boston (to look at apartments) on June 30th, Providence (to network with members of the ruling class) on July 2nd, and New York (to drink whiskey) on July 3rd. If you want to hang out with me, or give me a place to stay (in Boston or New York), let me know ASAP.

(PART I HERE)

PART II:

I left my friends' party, hoping to avoid any more annoying behavior by Katie, the drunk nympho who had thrown herself at me, tongue first. I went across campus to another gathering, where I had a quiet good time. I came home to my room around 2:00 am. My jackass roommate was already asleep, but woke up to give me a "hey buddy" when I came in. I quietly got in bed and went to sleep.

The next (late) morning, we were eating brunch and I told him about the girl who went boiled bunny on me the night before. Laughing, I said "she didn't come by last night, did she?" My jackass roommate said, "well, actually..."

Apparently, here's what happened afer I left the scene of the crime the night before:

My jackass roommate was in our room, eating a sandwich, sitting in my deskchair, watching an episode of Family Guy on my computer. He heard a knock at the door, and said, "the door's open--come on in."

The door swung open, revealing... Katie! Sweet, tiny, stinking drunk Katie.

You can imagine how confused she must have been. I'm sure she was very proud of herself for remembering my room number, considering her BAC. Standing, or perhaps swaying, in the doorway, her interrogation began:

"Where's Jake?"
"Jake's not here; I don't know where he is."
"Are you Jake's jackass roommate?"
"Yep."
"Are you... are you funny?"

You've got to believe this conversation was getting fairly weird for my jackass roommate, but he's pretty quick on his feet, even when incredibly high.

"Uh... I guess I'm pretty funny. Yeah."
"Are you funny like Jake?"

He looked at his sandwich, then looked back at Katie. Incredibly high or not, he knew the answer to this one. He set down the sandwich, paused Family Guy, and swiveled the chair around to face Katie.

"Yes. Yes, I am funny like Jake."

Katie stepped into the room, closing and locking the door behind her.

I'm not going to detail the specifics of the next hour or so, but all of the following occurred, I'm semi-reliably told (I think this is the right order): Katie performed a striptease, then gave my jackass roommate a lapdance. They defiled our couch, and then (or maybe at the same time) engaged in some definite sexual intercourse. When it was all over, she left. Then my jackass roommate finished the sandwich and the Family Guy episode, and went to sleep.

Sidenote: Considering my jackass roommate was known to a) take naps in my bed b) sleep in the nude and c) have no respect for me or my belongings (remember, he was sitting in my chair, and watching Family Guy on my computer), I think there's a better than even chance that he slept with her in my bed and didn't tell me.

PART I:

Note: All names (save mine) have been changed to protect the INCREDIBLY GUILTY.

( Sex post spectacular )

It gets worse/better. Continued tomorrow (link).

"Dear Third, Fourth, and Fifth Grade Parents:

"It is with great regret that I tell you that your child may have been exposed to alcohol today at lunch," said the missive signed by Alexander Harvey IV, head of the private Alexandria Country Day School.

Yep. These lucky tots get served mid-day booze that they don't even have to pay for and nothing happens to them, while I come back to the office after one eight-martini lunch and puke in the fax machine, and I get read the riot act. Talk about hypocrisy!

At any rate, it's always been my policy that if you're going to give alcohol to elementary school kids, do it right. Make it jello shots, not tequila.

An administrator who realized something was wrong started investigating, Harvey said, and quickly discovered that the limeade was really liquor -- although it is unclear why the kitchen staff didn't notice.

Subtext: the unskilled workers are alcoholics who should be familiar with the smell of day-old margaritas.

In completely unrelated news, I sure am looking forward to Halloween. A child's glassy-eyed smile and swaying unstable gait just lights up a room!

This is what I did on Sunday. Basic summary: I got up at 8am, walked a few blocks to meet up with my friends, watched thousands of athletic people run past while I drank a can of Steel Reserve malt liquor (the hobo's choice based on its exceptional booze/dollar ratio). After the real runners went past, my friends and I joined the mass of naked people, costumed people (superheroes, nurses, pirates, roman gladiators, and much much more), elaborate floats incorporating full-size tiki bars, phallic papier-maché, diesel-powered margarita blenders, and of course hundreds of kegs.

We made lots of friends, drank dozens of varieties of beer from rolling home-made vehicles (and some jello shots courtesy of the nurses), got sunburnt, and walked our asses off. It was 7.5 miles to the end of the race, and then another couple of miles to get back to civilization, and once I got home I took a much-needed nap while my legs cramped up.

Despite all of the wrinkled old nudists, it was a really fun time and I highly recommend it.