Back To My Roots

I know I’m an adult and am supposed to act my age, but sometimes it’s refreshing to know I can still behave like the wild sorority girl I once was.

Rarely can I convince my friends to join me at more adolescent, “divey,” bars, for more spontaneous, random evenings, but this past Friday night I succeeded, and she came willingly!  Off to Brother Jimmy’s BBQ on the Upper East Side for cheap drinks, cheesy 80’s music and hopefully a little bit of trouble reminiscent of my university days. 

We may have been the oldest patrons by at least 5 years, but we were easily the lives of the party.  We got ourselves invited to our table neighbor’s birthday party and persuaded the young folks on our other side to buy a “garbage can” for all three tables to help celebrate.  Twenty of us were not able to finish this giant pretzel keg sized drink consisting of mostly 151.

We danced, we sang, we took shots and eventually we left when we decided it was time to check out another old stomping ground, Sutton Place.  The crowd was weak at Sutton Place, but maybe that was because it was late and it’s more of a “happy hour” bar.  We never should have left Brother Jimmy’s where the crowd was young, but for sure wild, entertaining, and adorable to boot.              

It wasn’t my intention of keeping a youthful theme going with my weekend, but Saturday night kept my formative years alive and kicking.  Thanks to a LONG but worthy wait in the lounge at Bond Street and being part of a party consisting of only two girls and a guy, again, I found myself invited to yet another 26 year old’s birthday party.

The catch here was that this one was open bar. Clearly a no brainer, we would head over to Marquis Lounge on Bowery and Great Jones after dinner. The place felt like a huge living room with Moroccan décor, had a small bar and played mediocre music. The young boys from Bond Street were thrilled we showed and were more than willing to open up their already open bar to strangers. 

Sure one of the boys “bought” me a few drinks, but none of these younger men I met this weekend were for me. They were cute and sweet, but not serious and not secure enough to talk to women until they were completely inebriated. 

That’s okay though because by the time Sunday morning came around I realized I’m way too old to drink this much and stay out this late too many nights in a row. One night of reliving my college years at a time is more than this mind, liver and body handle.

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