Where Have You Gone, Joe Dimaggio
The purpose of this little game was that you then had to go and find your mate. For me, that meant going up to every guy in the bar and asking him if he was Joe Dimaggio. Girl magically became Gwen Stefani looking for her Gavin Rossdale (lucky her... or so it seemed at the time). After several minutes of trying to find everyone's favorite Yankee, Girl and I got into a discussion about what you do should your match turn out to be severly lacking in the looks department. At that moment, almost as if on cue, a rather unfortunate looking fellow approached us and asked "Gwen?", to which we both replied "No". 1.5 seconds later, Girl demanded a new name and got Star Jones.
Um... does ANYONE know who the honk Star Jones is married to?
Don't feel bad, no one at the party knew either. Sadly neither one of us ever did find our matches.
Things I learned at Easy & the Fifth:
1) If a single person asks another single person at a singles party to tell you "their story"... please do not go into a long and horribly depressing narrative about going through a bitter divorce from your wife who cheated on you with your best friend. This is not the best way to impress a girl. Yikes.
2) If a section of the club is roped off and closed for a private party and someone(s) (in the case Bea and Girl) who is(are) not invited to attend this party tries to sneak in... you(they) will be humiliatingly hunted down by the bouncer and kicked out of said private party. Who knew?
Anyway, very fun time, but we decided to head up to the Madison to meet up with a friend of Girl's.
Things I learned at the Madison:
1) The Madison should be used as a classroom example of a modern day labrynthe. Telling us that you are on the upper patio means nothing to us when we can't find how to get there. In a moment of drunken brilliance I decided to call the only person I could think of who had any knowledge of the place so we could get directions. This resulted in a little drunk dialing of my own to the former-PNB at 1am in the morning.
2) Drunk dialing in a really, really, really loud bar... so loud in fact that I could not hear the ring in my ear... is really not a good idea. Sorry UHL.
3) The mirror behind one of the bars is NOT, in fact, a whole other room. It's just a mirror... that reflects images... like most mirrors are apt to do. "Hey, there's a person who looks just like me in that room".
4) Thinking that a mirror is the gateway into another room is surely a sign that another beer is asking for trouble.
So, the Maddi was fun as well. Didn't find my mojo at either place but I made some steps in the right direction... namely in that I showed more boobage than I have in a really long time. Yay Bea! Now I just need to get some colour on the old girls so I don't blind people with my pasty-white boob glare.