It was very apropos. The Elvis Costello-wannabe onstage at the Sidewalk Cafe in the East Village was singing a song called, "Drinking Beers with Mom." Everyone at our booth kept looking over at me and my newly coiffed mom, who had just done a shot of goldschlager with me.
Rewind to 5:30 p.m. Terri and I drove into Hoboken and PATHed to the city (I may be moving to San Francisco, but New York will always be "the city"), where we ate a less-than-thrilling dinner at Manatus (Christopher and Bleeker Sts.). We bummed around for a bit, darting between air-conditioned stores because the heat and humidity were truly oppressive. I kept shouting, "It's like we're in Thailand!" Terri, who had just come back from nearly a year in Hong Kong can vouch for how disgustingly humid it was, especially later in the evening.
After drinking a lovely deep chocolate peanut butter shake and spinning some records at a rad store, we walked past a sunglasses stand. I had been whining that I needed a new pair. As I was checking them out, I noticed that the store next door did tatoos and piercings. Terir had mentioned that she wanted a tatoo, but I didn't expect that she'd walk right in and get one that second!
After a 30 minute wait, a man who had tatooed Carmen Elektra, Jesse Camp and Tommy Lee (we saw the pictures - he actually changed Tommy's Heather tatoo to Pamela) was inking an onk onto Terri's back. It was insane - and hurt like hell, she says. If I had had the 45 bucks I would have gotten the Chinese character for fire on my arm, but I'm a poor mofo. The blue hair has made me a fierce bitch.
We had just enough time to grab a cab and jump to the other side of Manhattan to see Derek's band play at Sidewalk Cafe. It was a family affair. My Aunts Laura (Derek's wife) and Liz met us there. Then, my mom and Earl showed up,. to the shock of many. My mother may be cool and young, but she's not the type to stay up past 11 - even on weekends.
So there we are, two generations swapping stories about first times getting drunk, about drug use in middle and high school. Taking shots together! Insanity.
Mom and Earl dropped us off back on 9th St. so we could chill. I wasn't really in the mood to move through the soupy air, but we kept walking, searching for food and good music. We walked past this gay bar on Christopher St. called "The Hangar." the music sounded great, but the sign with "Go-Go Boys" turned me off. But, we decided to go if there was no cover, so there I was, sitting next to one of a handful of women in the whole place, watching a short, muscled guy with too much junk in the trunk shake what his momma gave him (like that?) as a parade of gay stereotypes oogled each other. We also made friend with a very flamboyant and "fierce" guy who kept insisting that he should get his black ass back to Brooklyn, but continued to chat, giving us high-fives and hugs every 30 seconds.
Waiting at the Christopher St. PATH station, a ran into Tom from Targum and a couple of other people I kind of know. I had a total crush on Tom freshman year - for about 30 seconds, but still, it's always fun to see him.
But the weirdest part of the whole night, I think, was driving back to my house, past a minibus full of guys who had just gotten trashed. As we drove past the bus I noticed there was a TV. When we passed it, I saw that they were watching porn! Like, some chick was getting fucked on screen - it was one of those moments.
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