Story #1
A couple of weekends ago when Sachin came to check out NYC for apartments, we hang out with some other friends at an awesome Karaoke place in the East Village called Japas. At the end of the night, his friend chatted up one of the cute Japanese ladies sitting at the bar. By that point Sachin was totally hammered so we went outside for some fresh air. A little while later, his friend came out laughing his ass off. We asked him what happened.
He explained as thus: "Dude, I started talking to that cute Japanese girl when I was outside for a smoke and I found out she was from Brazil. So we were talking and talking. Then just when I was about to leave, I totally put my balls on the table and told her I thought she was really hot and would love to see her again. I asked for her number, right? She said with this Japanese accent, 'I'm saw sawry, I'm married and have a child'!!"
We had a good laugh at that. I went inside to grab another friend while Sachin was hanging out outside. After I came out, I thought, where did Sachin go? I looked around and then thought, wow that bum has a really nice jacket. Well, that bum turned out to be Sachin's drunk ass passed out on the steps of a piercing parlor on St. Mark's. Of course, my natural response was to whip out my camera phone to take a picture of him at his most vulnerable state. Evidently, he was still lucid enough to throw up a hand and yell, "Dude that's not cool!" at me. Since the picture didn't turn out well at all, I deleted it.
The night before that I got pretty hammered myself, came back to my place at 2:30, and promptly fell asleep. At around 3:30 Sachin called me from outside my apartment. I didn't wake up until he called me a second time. I barely remember buzzing him in. According to him, I opened the door, waited for him to come upstairs and then went back to bed after pointing at the couch. The whole time I didn't speak a single word.
Story #2
Monday night I went to a party in the Village hosted by the girlfriend of a coworker. Her place was right on Christopher St. so we stood on the balcony and heckled all the people in costumes who roamed the street. Unfortunately, she was the only girl at the party so it pretty much turned into a sausage fest. To add insult to injury, the gay couple she invited kept hollering "show your tits" at flamboyant buff black dudes in super tight pants. They also screamed "we are gay!" at some hot girls in nurse uniforms while the rest of us frantically waved our arms yelling "no, WE are not gay!"
For a split second, my roaming eyes looked across the street and found an overweight man wrapping his arms around his equally overweight boyfriend while they stood in front of their window. I felt a little sad at that one instant.
Anyways, I told my other coworker about the crazy Halloween party I went to last weekend. He said he dressed up as Yao Ming (he's pretty tall) and went to some club. Then he took out his cell and asked me to call a number on there using my cell. Apparently, he got some girl's number at the club but was too wasted to remember her name. He thought her name was "Janet" or something like that. My task was to call the number and try to figure out her name. "And don't say anything about Yao Ming or bring up my name, ok?"
I called the number, and surprise surprise, some guy picked up. After I went through the motion of asking for Janet and then hanging up after being told I called the wrong number, I yelled at him, "Dude, it was a dude!!" He snickered and said, "I guess I must have typed her number wrong then, haha."
Later the gay couple (our gay couple, not to be confused with the affectionate couple across the street) left briefly to pick up more beer. Somehow, they came back with a six-pack in a Banana Republic bag. Naturally, I asked, "Why do you have a BR bag?" "Oh, we picked up a sweater on the way back." WTF????
