Uncharted Territory

This weekend was a weekend full of firsts for me. It started on Friday night with my new volleyball team. I signed up for a charity sports league, Zog Sports, and so far its been a blast. We go out to the bar across the street after games, and the people on my team are really cool and smart (not to mention my age).  After our last game, we decided to have a team drinking bonding session Friday night. The idea was to BYOB and we were going to tie-dye our shirts. I wasn’t on board with that from the get go, but I wasn’t about to be the only team member in a white shirt. So we decide to meet Friday night around 10:30 and maybe go out afterwards. 

I show up at this guy’s apartment around 11 with a 6-pack of Bud Light Golden Wheat and  Sprite for mixers. Realization: In the real world, people don’t mess around when its BYOB. Everyone else had brought a handle of something middle shelf, and I was the college tool who only brought a 6-pack. Of not even good beer. Color me embarrassed. 

The apartment itself was AWESOME, up on the 33rd floor with a balcony overlooking the East River and the Pepsi Cola sign. I was so impressed I made everyone take a shot out there. It was a lot of small talk, but we all stopped to watch Conan’s last show – we love you CoCo! I taught some of the guys shoulders, we took some more shots, and the night flew by. Around 3 we all decided to part ways, so I talked my teammate into getting a bagel with me on our way back. I was in rare form, and when I got home my roommate recorded our conversation including me sounding out the word “dumb….dum-b.”

Saturday was one of the first sunny weekend days we’ve had in a while, so I took a long stroll around the Upper East to get my vitamin D fix. I love walking around New York with no where to go and nothing to do, there’s so many people to see and buildings to enjoy and so many window displays to covet. I always seem to end up at the Met, and I spent some time sitting on the steps listening to 5 guys singing a capella outside for a while, and then went inside and read surrounded by classic Greek sculptures. Oh sooooo cultured, I know; I make myself sick. 

I was really looking forward to Saturday night because I had a stellar night lined up: DJ Pauly D was dropping by my neighborhood, then I was going to this bar that had a mechanical bull. For those of you who don’t know, riding a mechanical bull is one of my lifelong dreams (right up there with being a tumbleweed). My friends Jess and Amara –from Jersey, so our group was legit — came in, and we got to Sutton Place around 11. The line was moving quickly, but when we got up to the front we saw all these people were leaving the bar shouting “How are you still letting people in? Theres no room to breathe up there!” We agreed it wasn’t worth $20 to hate our lives, so we went right over to Johnny Utah’s for some quality urban cowboy time. 

The bar was pretty frat-tastic, but all I really cared about was the  bull. After filling out the waiver, getting a drink in me, and carefully observing the other bull riders, I was ready to go. One of two things could happen to me, as evidenced by the other riders. One, the guy running the bull would try to make me look like a jackass like he did to all the unattractive girls who jumped on, either throwing them off quickly or making their fat jiggle. Rude. Or, like he did with some of his favorite whores patrons, he would let them get on and then just slowly rotate the bull around and up and down for 45 seconds and make them look really hot while he probably stored that mental image for later. I was pretty petrified of either of those things happening to me, but when your dream is staring you in the face, you’ve gotta saddle up. 

Its pretty anti-climatic, but neither of those things happened to me. My bull ride was average at best and I stayed on for probably 15 seconds, after which I decided it was better to gracefully bow out than hold out until the bitter end. Amara got on after I did, and same thing — not rodeo ready but not a fool either. Satisfied with our accomplishment, we got a bagel and headed home. 

I haven’t left the house today, nor have I gotten dressed. I more or less spent the day watching Millionaire Matchmaker re-runs and rearranging the living room. Sometimes New York isn’t any more exciting than Newark.


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