CityHangover Week in Review: Bender Edition
Sorry for the length, but it’s been a bit of a week.
Here in the realm of City Hangover, bender weeks are typically welcomed with the pomp and circumstance expected of such a namesake event. After seeing four straight “1 beer” nights turn into far more, however, I’m beginning to rethink my position. (Alright. A few of those nights were destined to be something more like 10 beer nights, but still.) This week has run the gamut with team drinks, friend’s birthdays, and the much heralded arrival of my little sister to Londontown. What’s a man to do?
Things began innocently enough on Tuesday night at our post-work pub. I shared some QT with San Miguel (underrated, that San Miguel), and then later at my (oft blogged about) local Mexican restaurant with my new roommate and the Mexican kitchen staff. Yeah, that roommate. I also finally took the opportunity to test my drunk Spanish skills with the guys at the restaurant. It was a hit! Or so I’d like to think.
Wednesday brought the celebration of yet another friend becoming nearly as old as I am (always worth celebrating). We graced the same local pub with our presence, but this time upped the ante with a night dominated by shots and a myriad of sappy and sarcastic toasts. Birthdays are a great time to showcase ones ability to make ridiculous statements while holding a drink in the air. Unfortunately, I was given a bit of a birthday surprise of my own about halfway through the night. The birthday girl and another friend had actually stumbled upon this website a few weeks back from a Google search gone bad (all those “Fernando Torres mullet” searches are starting to make sense), and decided it was time to out me as the hipster blogger I aspire to be. What a generous gift. My immediate reaction must have read something like this:
“Uhhh…hmmm. Interesting.”
Gauges if he’s pissed them off with any of his posts
“What did you think?”
Pauses as part of a lifelong search for approval
“Oh, you liked it?! I’m glad!”
Proceeds to bar for a few shots of his own, just in case
Fortunately, they were cool about it and seem to be enjoying my take on London and my other travels. Whew. A close call indeed. But if I thought that was traumatic, I had no idea what was in store for the end of my week.
Thursday was advertised ominously as “Team dinner and drinks” night with my new team from the office. The night exceeded my typical free drinks expectations, although I’m not sure I’ll be asked to any future team drinks nights with these co-workers. My greatest accomplishment of the night had to have been of the “side-cup” variety, as I was able to convince the group that any purchase of shots must be accompanied by a round of B.A.U. drinks, effectively doubling everyone’s alcohol intake for the night. And yes, things got a bit messy. Let me elaborate. I discovered that one of my co-workers’ girlfriends recently had DD breast implants (and, of course, proceeded to make lewd comments about it all night), might have shared a questionably long hug/kiss on the cheek (with a bit of lip coverage) with a menopausal woman on the team, and woke up to find the breast implant guy on my couch (he lives out of town). To make matters more hilarious, my laptop was tuned into his girlfriend’s MySpace page. Evidently I've become one of those types.
Friday brought the arrival of my little sister into town, and signaled the proximity of my first true vacation all year. Before heading out to Italy on Saturday morning we grabbed a few beers with some friends at, you guessed it, that same local pub. I only had a few this time out as I hadn’t packed and still had some work to do before leaving town, but my sister had what I now recognize as different intentions altogether. She convinced me to let her go out with my roommate as her chaperone, and I hesitantly obliged. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.
I spent Friday night/Saturday morning packing and working on my laptop, walking to the office at 5am (curiously closed) and 7am (fortunately open, lest I throw a rock through the glass doors) to login, and generally hating my life. My sister returned around 2am and went directly to sleep. Safe and sound. Great.
Or not. Although we managed to catch our 9am car to the evil Stanstead Airport on Saturday morning, something just wasn’t right with Lil’ Sis. With a bit of prodding, I discovered that she was seen kissing one of my co-workers at the bar the prior evening. What?! I’m still working through my issues with this (which will magnify substantially when I return to the office next Monday), and am vacillating between calling a hit out on her (Godfather style) or excommunicating her (Catholic style – we are going to the Vatican, after all) for the shame she’s brought to the family. Kids today.
Anyway, I’m off to Italy to spend some quality time with my double-crossing sister, hopefully detox a bit, and relax over some good wine (we’re defining detox loosely here, right?). Expect to see some posts from Italy, as I’ve packed along my trusted laptop. What a hipster blogger.
Here in the realm of City Hangover, bender weeks are typically welcomed with the pomp and circumstance expected of such a namesake event. After seeing four straight “1 beer” nights turn into far more, however, I’m beginning to rethink my position. (Alright. A few of those nights were destined to be something more like 10 beer nights, but still.) This week has run the gamut with team drinks, friend’s birthdays, and the much heralded arrival of my little sister to Londontown. What’s a man to do?
Things began innocently enough on Tuesday night at our post-work pub. I shared some QT with San Miguel (underrated, that San Miguel), and then later at my (oft blogged about) local Mexican restaurant with my new roommate and the Mexican kitchen staff. Yeah, that roommate. I also finally took the opportunity to test my drunk Spanish skills with the guys at the restaurant. It was a hit! Or so I’d like to think.
Wednesday brought the celebration of yet another friend becoming nearly as old as I am (always worth celebrating). We graced the same local pub with our presence, but this time upped the ante with a night dominated by shots and a myriad of sappy and sarcastic toasts. Birthdays are a great time to showcase ones ability to make ridiculous statements while holding a drink in the air. Unfortunately, I was given a bit of a birthday surprise of my own about halfway through the night. The birthday girl and another friend had actually stumbled upon this website a few weeks back from a Google search gone bad (all those “Fernando Torres mullet” searches are starting to make sense), and decided it was time to out me as the hipster blogger I aspire to be. What a generous gift. My immediate reaction must have read something like this:
“Uhhh…hmmm. Interesting.”
Gauges if he’s pissed them off with any of his posts
“What did you think?”
Pauses as part of a lifelong search for approval
“Oh, you liked it?! I’m glad!”
Proceeds to bar for a few shots of his own, just in case
Fortunately, they were cool about it and seem to be enjoying my take on London and my other travels. Whew. A close call indeed. But if I thought that was traumatic, I had no idea what was in store for the end of my week.
Thursday was advertised ominously as “Team dinner and drinks” night with my new team from the office. The night exceeded my typical free drinks expectations, although I’m not sure I’ll be asked to any future team drinks nights with these co-workers. My greatest accomplishment of the night had to have been of the “side-cup” variety, as I was able to convince the group that any purchase of shots must be accompanied by a round of B.A.U. drinks, effectively doubling everyone’s alcohol intake for the night. And yes, things got a bit messy. Let me elaborate. I discovered that one of my co-workers’ girlfriends recently had DD breast implants (and, of course, proceeded to make lewd comments about it all night), might have shared a questionably long hug/kiss on the cheek (with a bit of lip coverage) with a menopausal woman on the team, and woke up to find the breast implant guy on my couch (he lives out of town). To make matters more hilarious, my laptop was tuned into his girlfriend’s MySpace page. Evidently I've become one of those types.
Friday brought the arrival of my little sister into town, and signaled the proximity of my first true vacation all year. Before heading out to Italy on Saturday morning we grabbed a few beers with some friends at, you guessed it, that same local pub. I only had a few this time out as I hadn’t packed and still had some work to do before leaving town, but my sister had what I now recognize as different intentions altogether. She convinced me to let her go out with my roommate as her chaperone, and I hesitantly obliged. Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20.
I spent Friday night/Saturday morning packing and working on my laptop, walking to the office at 5am (curiously closed) and 7am (fortunately open, lest I throw a rock through the glass doors) to login, and generally hating my life. My sister returned around 2am and went directly to sleep. Safe and sound. Great.
Or not. Although we managed to catch our 9am car to the evil Stanstead Airport on Saturday morning, something just wasn’t right with Lil’ Sis. With a bit of prodding, I discovered that she was seen kissing one of my co-workers at the bar the prior evening. What?! I’m still working through my issues with this (which will magnify substantially when I return to the office next Monday), and am vacillating between calling a hit out on her (Godfather style) or excommunicating her (Catholic style – we are going to the Vatican, after all) for the shame she’s brought to the family. Kids today.
Anyway, I’m off to Italy to spend some quality time with my double-crossing sister, hopefully detox a bit, and relax over some good wine (we’re defining detox loosely here, right?). Expect to see some posts from Italy, as I’ve packed along my trusted laptop. What a hipster blogger.
posted by cjb at 4:43 PM
12 Comments:
so after all of your making out with inappropiate people, offering up your friends to taxi drivers, and general drunken obnoxiousness, it's your little sister snogging a coworker that is going to shame the family? please.
At a wedding last month I watched my baby sister canoodle with one of my dearest friends from high school. Since their night of passion they've been all cozy on MySpace and IM together, and I get to hear all the awkward details from her while I pretend to be just as swoony as she is. I'm acting like I'm superjazzed about the whole thing so she can't pull a Dirty Dancing on me for disrespecting her forbidden love. I hate my life.
CJ and BA,
What is an aunt to do?? Has that trip across the pond turned my beautiful niece into a Madonna? Kissing strangers in a pub!! I will need to hear and see proof of the great time she had at your expense Mr.Do not send her home tarnished and a disgrace to the family. Is he good looking? Would I approve?
This is too good. I love the Brewers.
Again, I have to echo KMV.
I've never met the younger Brewer but... I salute you.
What people?! I need support here, not a bunch of gawkers looking to see the Brewer family name disgraced by my floozy little sister.
Feel my pain!
I appreciate the support, Sharona. Granted, maybe I shouldn't have kissed one of big bro's coworkers, but I still think my track record is better than his (and that's judging solely off of what I know).
Oh, Curtis James. Seriously? You're gonna crucify Brit for a little vacation snog? I seem to vividly remember a certain hipster blogger with a nuzzling 'incident' in a cozy little pub in NY a few years back--and THAT apparently didn't shame the Brewer family. Of course, there was no hip and irreverent blog on which to broadcast said event. Hmmmmm. Convenient. Ciao!
I'll just say it once, but it needs to be said.
All Teeth, Whoop whoop!
Mom, They don't get that from me.
Maybe they know more than you think about your younger days.
You know when you were a free spirit.
is that rehab info for real?
Cj, someone thinks all you do is drink! Do you think you drink too much? Do you need to admit it and take the first step fo the 12 steps? It's nothing to be ashamed of.
Ok. So I guess I've garnered a few learnings from this comment thread. Thanks, people.
-Little sisters everywhere are doing this same type of isht (which doesn't make it right), but at least we old types can monitor everything via MySpace, Friendster, and Facebook profiles. Thanks Emily. I have a facebook profile just to keep tabs on my sister's ill advised behavior.
-Most of you - so called "friends of mine" - somehow believe that my history of harmless missteps gives lil sis the open door to even the score. Terrible! I'm not drinking with any of you for 1 week as punishment.
-My family, who brought my sinner sister into this world and raised her, are denying any responsibility! I'm thinking family intervention time at Christmas.
-Family double-crossing posts will result in mad comments. This one being the most commented post ever.
Thanks for reading, guys.
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