(Disclaimer: Having a 5-month old is like, well, way more work than I thought, so this blog was started on Saturday, September 27th. Kindly suspend your disbelief and pretend that it is indeed still that day. Thank you.)
Last night was one of those perfect New York City nights. It's that beautiful time of year when the summer's heat and humidity have said goodbye for another year, but the cool fall nights have not yet said hello. And from a totally girlie point of view, it's the small window of time when your hair will actually stay curled for more than 20 minutes.
Last night was also the night when this Hollywood actor would get into a fight because of me.
Wait, what? More on that later...
We started the night on my girlfriend's rooftop and the views were breathtaking. The sun was fading behind the Hudson River, and the lights of the city and Central Park danced in perfect harmony. As I've said before, New York can definitely beat you up every now and again, but then something this happens and it totally redeems itself.
After a glass of wine on the rooftop, we headed to the West Village and had dinner and drinks at Zampa Wine Bar + Kitchen (which is amazing. Great food and service. Cool ambiance too. Try the lasagna.)
With a nice wine buzz that had kicked in, there was only one logical next step: Karaoke! Now, I know what you're thinking. Karaoke totally sucks, right? No! Not in NYC. At places like Karaoke on 7 in the Flatiron District, you actually get a private room to sing, so you can make a complete fool out of yourself, and no one will care.
As soon as we got there, I decided I needed to go to the bathroom, so I headed down the hall, only to discover the most dreaded NYC site: ONE stall for men and ONE stall for women. (In a city of 8 million people, you'd think the city's architects would be a little better at math.) Luckily the line wasn't terrible, just one woman ahead of me.
After she went in, a man came up and got in line next to me and told me if the men's room opened first, he would insist that I go before him. I assured him I was fine, but he was adamant that women should always go first. Okay, cool, the ol' bladder certainly doesn't work like it did before childbirth, so what the heck. Sure enough, the men's restroom door opened, so the man (let's call him Larry) grabbed my arm and gave me a little push toward the door. I guess he thought I really needed to pee.
At the same time Larry flung me toward the door, another man walked, and started going into what he thought was an empty stall.
Oh no. Larry wasn't having it.
He yelled, "No!! She's going to use that restroom! Ladies first, man!"
After Larry finished pushing me into the stall, I took a look at the digs he had worked so hard for me to get. Yuck. It appeared every man in New York must have been swinging a hula hoop at the same time they were peeing, because there was urine everywhere except for IN the toilet. Ugh.
But whatever. Larry had worked so hard to get me this glorious opportunity, so I was just going to squat and bear it.
As I squatted and realized my thighs are significantly weaker post childbirth, I kept thinking that the man Larry had just yelled at looked soooo familiar. I had to know him from somewhere...
Then, I heard the two fighting outside the door.
Larry: "You have to let ladies go first!"
Familiar looking man: "Dude, that's fine, but you don't have to yell!"
Larry: "You want to take this outside??!!!"
Me murmuring to myself, "How do I know that guy? And why is Larry so angry?"
After I finished and opened the door, I could see that Larry and familiar looking man were still yelling. I turned to the woman next to me and said, "How do I know that guy??"
"He's in Avatar and Dodgeball."
"Oh my god, that's it!" I had just watched Dodgeball the week before.
His name is Joel David Moore and he got into a fight just because I needed to use the restroom. Sheesh. After Larry finally left, I walked up to Joel David, not exactly sure what to say. Luckily he broke the silence with "I was totally fine with you using the restroom first, I just wish that guy hadn't yelled."
Me slurring: "Totally."
(In my mind, "Can we take a selfie?")
Sadly, it didn't seem like the right time to get a pic. So we walked down the hall together, and parted ways as he entered room #3 while I continued down the hall to room #7. I tried to tell my girlfriends about what had just happened, but I wasn't exactly sure how to explain it.
When I Googled him later, I realized it was just his birthday the day before, so I tweeted him a Happy Birthday.
When I told Mike about the tweet, he said, "Did you apologize for almost getting him beaten up?"
Me: "Nope, didn't mention that."
Oh New York...
Last night was one of those perfect New York City nights. It's that beautiful time of year when the summer's heat and humidity have said goodbye for another year, but the cool fall nights have not yet said hello. And from a totally girlie point of view, it's the small window of time when your hair will actually stay curled for more than 20 minutes.
Last night was also the night when this Hollywood actor would get into a fight because of me.
Wait, what? More on that later...
We started the night on my girlfriend's rooftop and the views were breathtaking. The sun was fading behind the Hudson River, and the lights of the city and Central Park danced in perfect harmony. As I've said before, New York can definitely beat you up every now and again, but then something this happens and it totally redeems itself.
After a glass of wine on the rooftop, we headed to the West Village and had dinner and drinks at Zampa Wine Bar + Kitchen (which is amazing. Great food and service. Cool ambiance too. Try the lasagna.)
With a nice wine buzz that had kicked in, there was only one logical next step: Karaoke! Now, I know what you're thinking. Karaoke totally sucks, right? No! Not in NYC. At places like Karaoke on 7 in the Flatiron District, you actually get a private room to sing, so you can make a complete fool out of yourself, and no one will care.
As soon as we got there, I decided I needed to go to the bathroom, so I headed down the hall, only to discover the most dreaded NYC site: ONE stall for men and ONE stall for women. (In a city of 8 million people, you'd think the city's architects would be a little better at math.) Luckily the line wasn't terrible, just one woman ahead of me.
After she went in, a man came up and got in line next to me and told me if the men's room opened first, he would insist that I go before him. I assured him I was fine, but he was adamant that women should always go first. Okay, cool, the ol' bladder certainly doesn't work like it did before childbirth, so what the heck. Sure enough, the men's restroom door opened, so the man (let's call him Larry) grabbed my arm and gave me a little push toward the door. I guess he thought I really needed to pee.
At the same time Larry flung me toward the door, another man walked, and started going into what he thought was an empty stall.
Oh no. Larry wasn't having it.
He yelled, "No!! She's going to use that restroom! Ladies first, man!"
After Larry finished pushing me into the stall, I took a look at the digs he had worked so hard for me to get. Yuck. It appeared every man in New York must have been swinging a hula hoop at the same time they were peeing, because there was urine everywhere except for IN the toilet. Ugh.
But whatever. Larry had worked so hard to get me this glorious opportunity, so I was just going to squat and bear it.
As I squatted and realized my thighs are significantly weaker post childbirth, I kept thinking that the man Larry had just yelled at looked soooo familiar. I had to know him from somewhere...
Then, I heard the two fighting outside the door.
Larry: "You have to let ladies go first!"
Familiar looking man: "Dude, that's fine, but you don't have to yell!"
Larry: "You want to take this outside??!!!"
Me murmuring to myself, "How do I know that guy? And why is Larry so angry?"
After I finished and opened the door, I could see that Larry and familiar looking man were still yelling. I turned to the woman next to me and said, "How do I know that guy??"
"He's in Avatar and Dodgeball."
"Oh my god, that's it!" I had just watched Dodgeball the week before.
His name is Joel David Moore and he got into a fight just because I needed to use the restroom. Sheesh. After Larry finally left, I walked up to Joel David, not exactly sure what to say. Luckily he broke the silence with "I was totally fine with you using the restroom first, I just wish that guy hadn't yelled."
Me slurring: "Totally."
(In my mind, "Can we take a selfie?")
Sadly, it didn't seem like the right time to get a pic. So we walked down the hall together, and parted ways as he entered room #3 while I continued down the hall to room #7. I tried to tell my girlfriends about what had just happened, but I wasn't exactly sure how to explain it.
When I Googled him later, I realized it was just his birthday the day before, so I tweeted him a Happy Birthday.
When I told Mike about the tweet, he said, "Did you apologize for almost getting him beaten up?"
Me: "Nope, didn't mention that."
Oh New York...
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