The city is known for its lights. It’s known for many things, but people seem to remember the lights. Stars shining at the horizon, so bright they blot out the celestial bodies that inspired them. Electric torches fill every window of every tower. Miles of metal and mortar, all lit to reinforce the image of the unsleeping New York.
But not tonight. Tonight a gloomy fog fills the landscape. The lights are muted and combined to form an orange glow that stretches throughout the boroughs. Famous paintings and postcards become moot. The skyline is gone. There are no towers or bridges. No castles or keeps. No exits. Streetlamps become dismal beacons lining invisible byways. Only the adjoining buildings seem to poke through the tangerine cloud. The smokestacks, fingers of a dark hand pushing through the haze.
I sip my drink slowly as some nameless tune whispers through my headphones. The slow, somber piano mimics my mood. The city’s mood. It’s late and we both should be sleeping. Me, on a hard mattress with flat pillows, her, smothered in a citrus blanket. We fight the urge to rest together. I can’t turn my waking dreams off, my mind working at too fast a pace. The silence of her fog is cut with dim headlights and the occasional siren. We resist.
Just like the night before, there is no rationale for me to be awake at this hour. I have no hobby, no novel to keep my attention. No drugs or stimulants course through me, artificially maintaining my perception. The exact opposite is true. The alcohol depresses my wits and slows my hands. It aids my fatigue and pulls my body closer to the chair. But still, I cling to my consciousness and stare into the mist.
New York needs no justification for activity this evening. “Always Open” does not allow for conditional weather factors. Even if impenetrable fog hides people and buildings and thick air muffles all sounds. The reputation alone keeps her vigorous. Be it snow, rain, wind, fire, or smoke, nothing alters the business hours. Even tonight when no rational person would be patrolling the streets and the visibility is so low you couldn’t tell if anyone was out there anyway. The city is unwavering.
I am not. I finally succumb to my exhaustion and collapse upon my bed. I roll over to get one more glimpse of the dull orange light before I close my eyes. I wonder what the other eight million people in the city are doing at this moment. Eight million strangers, sleeping and dreaming. Am I the last one awake? The only person unable to find rest on this quiet night? The fog begins to clear while my drunken sleep deepens. Buildings seem to grow out of nothingness as the city is cleansed. As I become less lucid, I hope for some comfort from the newly revealed New York. I give one last look into the skyline, but I’m unable to find any understanding or sympathy. I’m not surprised. That isn’t what the city is known for.
Sunday, January 14, 2007
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Step up to the bar
Let’s face it guys: drinking is cool. It can show your status, your style, your panache and your ability to look like a prick without care or foreseeable consequences (because you’re drunk). In intimate social situations, drinking can make you look approachable, it lessens any awkward tension and can turn even the shyest wallflower into the life of the party (or at least that’s what it seems like to you because you’re drunk).
But not everyone has the same level of cool when it comes to drinking. The guy who’s wearing the Rugby shirt, bombed out of his mind and can’t keep his head off the bar doesn’t have the same finesse as the debonair gentleman sipping scotch while casually eyeing the room. They both could be amazing drunks, but the latter is much more socially acceptable because he’s letting his buzz inflate his ego, transforming him into that Stetson Man character. Sure it’s probably all in his head and only 5 hours ago he was some nebbish accountant who would have just as much luck building a suspension bridge as he would pleasuring a woman, but the booze creates confidence. And a confidant man acts cool. Well… cooler than the slobbering oaf.
Building this persona is like building any fabricated structure; it’s best to start with a solid foundation. It’s the most vital part of the building. It’s the cement pylons on which your cleverly booze crafted guise relies. That all-important foundation… is the drink order. The whole practice of ordering a drink is actually very difficult to learn. Any fen born lack wit can put on clean clothes and gawk at random women with some sort of alcohol in his hand, but with the decline of basic drinking intellect, it takes a borderline socialite to order that drink with insight and flair. Yet, just like anything else in the world, it’s something you can learn and be taught. So let me walk you through it.
Step one: Get noticed. Many a man has died of thirst just because bartenders seem to be the most over worked and lest attentive people on the planet. To get a drink in a crowded bar you need to plant yourself in a position where even if Ray Charles was manning the tap he’d spot you. Once you stake your claim, don’t hover or fidget. Stay still and look comfortable. This lets the barkeep know you are not moving till he liquors you up, so he better get to it. Now make eye contact (very important) and motion to your alcohol distributor that you would like some service by raising your eyebrows, jerk your chin upwards in one quick move (also known as the “sup”) and if desperate, gently point your index finger towards the ceiling. Remember to keep it casual. Banging on the bar demanding service is just the type of thing a cool drinker stays away from, but be assertive as well.
Step two: Say something. Before we get to the nitty-gritty of the actual booze, it’s imperative to know that HOW you order is almost as important as WHAT you order. Don’t hem and haw and stammer your way through the request. Be up-front, sure and secure about what you are getting. If you know what you are talking about, this is your chance to be creative and innovative with a little word play. You can get a brew, brewski, cold one, warm one, dark one, light one, on the rocks, neat, single, double, tall one, short one, a shot, a splash, a mix, a drop and dribble. Just go with what you know and what is comfortable to you. And stay away from movie clichés. Everyone has heard the Bond line (and who stirs a martini anyway) so reciting it in front of people will make you look like a dipstick. As long as you have confidence in what you say people will think you’re cool… and if it’s original and funny, so will the bartender. (BIG ASIDE: Fellas, unless you also know them socially, don’t think you are getting anywhere flirting with the hot baristas. Big jugs, nice skin and a friendly smile for you mean TIPS for them and not the kind you want to stick in her. These chicks are totally immune to drunken confidence and inebriated wiles. You wouldn’t want a burger after flipping them all day, and they don’t want you. Don’t even bother. Go for the blond who’s slurring).
Step three: What’ll you have. This is where it helps if you’re not a complete moron. You don’t want a Sex on the Beach, or a Fuzzy Navel or a Long Island ANYTHING. These are chick drinks and taste good and get you just as drunk… but it’s wussy and expensive and lame. More likely to get you beat up and humiliated. Keep it simple. A beer (something on tap, never in cans), a mixed drink (make sure it’s top shelf booze and only one or two other ingredients), whiskey (on the rocks, small label) or scotch (neat, and older than 8 years). If you don’t know names or labels, just ask. You’ll probably get something on the expensive side that the bar is trying to sell, but it will be better than well drinks or some swill out of a trough.
Step four: Drink. Easy now killer. This isn’t a race. You start drinking that like it’s water and you are only going to be able to hit on nurses in the ER. And don’t sip it like your drinking boiling oil. If you take forever on one drink people are going to recognize you don’t know what you’re doing. Find a happy medium and stay there. As for number, well that’s depends on how well you know yourself. Some people can have an 8 drink night and be “ok” for whatever comes their way (these people are Irish or liars). Most will want to stick to 4 or under just to be able to physically perform later (even if that performance is walking out of a bar alone). And for crying out loud, DON’T be the asshole that drives home wasted. You just might end up running me over as I’m walking back to my place with your sister.
Follow these steps and I’m sure you’ll be ready to drink your way to coolness… or at least you won’t be so lame that they laugh you out of bars. The rest is up to you and your now chemically enhanced sense of importance. Whee!
But not everyone has the same level of cool when it comes to drinking. The guy who’s wearing the Rugby shirt, bombed out of his mind and can’t keep his head off the bar doesn’t have the same finesse as the debonair gentleman sipping scotch while casually eyeing the room. They both could be amazing drunks, but the latter is much more socially acceptable because he’s letting his buzz inflate his ego, transforming him into that Stetson Man character. Sure it’s probably all in his head and only 5 hours ago he was some nebbish accountant who would have just as much luck building a suspension bridge as he would pleasuring a woman, but the booze creates confidence. And a confidant man acts cool. Well… cooler than the slobbering oaf.
Building this persona is like building any fabricated structure; it’s best to start with a solid foundation. It’s the most vital part of the building. It’s the cement pylons on which your cleverly booze crafted guise relies. That all-important foundation… is the drink order. The whole practice of ordering a drink is actually very difficult to learn. Any fen born lack wit can put on clean clothes and gawk at random women with some sort of alcohol in his hand, but with the decline of basic drinking intellect, it takes a borderline socialite to order that drink with insight and flair. Yet, just like anything else in the world, it’s something you can learn and be taught. So let me walk you through it.
Step one: Get noticed. Many a man has died of thirst just because bartenders seem to be the most over worked and lest attentive people on the planet. To get a drink in a crowded bar you need to plant yourself in a position where even if Ray Charles was manning the tap he’d spot you. Once you stake your claim, don’t hover or fidget. Stay still and look comfortable. This lets the barkeep know you are not moving till he liquors you up, so he better get to it. Now make eye contact (very important) and motion to your alcohol distributor that you would like some service by raising your eyebrows, jerk your chin upwards in one quick move (also known as the “sup”) and if desperate, gently point your index finger towards the ceiling. Remember to keep it casual. Banging on the bar demanding service is just the type of thing a cool drinker stays away from, but be assertive as well.
Step two: Say something. Before we get to the nitty-gritty of the actual booze, it’s imperative to know that HOW you order is almost as important as WHAT you order. Don’t hem and haw and stammer your way through the request. Be up-front, sure and secure about what you are getting. If you know what you are talking about, this is your chance to be creative and innovative with a little word play. You can get a brew, brewski, cold one, warm one, dark one, light one, on the rocks, neat, single, double, tall one, short one, a shot, a splash, a mix, a drop and dribble. Just go with what you know and what is comfortable to you. And stay away from movie clichés. Everyone has heard the Bond line (and who stirs a martini anyway) so reciting it in front of people will make you look like a dipstick. As long as you have confidence in what you say people will think you’re cool… and if it’s original and funny, so will the bartender. (BIG ASIDE: Fellas, unless you also know them socially, don’t think you are getting anywhere flirting with the hot baristas. Big jugs, nice skin and a friendly smile for you mean TIPS for them and not the kind you want to stick in her. These chicks are totally immune to drunken confidence and inebriated wiles. You wouldn’t want a burger after flipping them all day, and they don’t want you. Don’t even bother. Go for the blond who’s slurring).
Step three: What’ll you have. This is where it helps if you’re not a complete moron. You don’t want a Sex on the Beach, or a Fuzzy Navel or a Long Island ANYTHING. These are chick drinks and taste good and get you just as drunk… but it’s wussy and expensive and lame. More likely to get you beat up and humiliated. Keep it simple. A beer (something on tap, never in cans), a mixed drink (make sure it’s top shelf booze and only one or two other ingredients), whiskey (on the rocks, small label) or scotch (neat, and older than 8 years). If you don’t know names or labels, just ask. You’ll probably get something on the expensive side that the bar is trying to sell, but it will be better than well drinks or some swill out of a trough.
Step four: Drink. Easy now killer. This isn’t a race. You start drinking that like it’s water and you are only going to be able to hit on nurses in the ER. And don’t sip it like your drinking boiling oil. If you take forever on one drink people are going to recognize you don’t know what you’re doing. Find a happy medium and stay there. As for number, well that’s depends on how well you know yourself. Some people can have an 8 drink night and be “ok” for whatever comes their way (these people are Irish or liars). Most will want to stick to 4 or under just to be able to physically perform later (even if that performance is walking out of a bar alone). And for crying out loud, DON’T be the asshole that drives home wasted. You just might end up running me over as I’m walking back to my place with your sister.
Follow these steps and I’m sure you’ll be ready to drink your way to coolness… or at least you won’t be so lame that they laugh you out of bars. The rest is up to you and your now chemically enhanced sense of importance. Whee!
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