Sunday Funday.

A lot can be said about a weekend that starts with mojitos in Central Park at 4 PM Friday and doesn't really stop from there. While there are quite a few stories to share...here's Sunday's action.

Met up with Muffy around 4 for "brunch" AKA our first meal since the 5 AM pancake and grilled cheese feast we shared that morning. We were both in seriously rough shape from the night before and were planning on a nice quiet Sunday meal, maybe watch a little basketball, maybe talk to some boys, no biggie.

Then, after a bloody and a few beers, Ivory starts texting. I'd agreed a few days before to see him on Sunday and didn't really think I could bail. Muffy and I were having too much fun, though, and I didn't really want to deal with Ivory alone so....Muffy and Pothead were invited! We head over to the old standby, hereby renamed J BBQ.

Ivory.....was in Gigglemonster Stage 7 when we arrived. Swinging back and forth between semi-normalcy and So Loud The Whole Bar is Looking at Us Gigglemonster. Fuck. How to deal with this situation? Um, shots. From the hot bartender, please.

Fast forward 2 hours, 2 shots, 2 beers....Ivory is shitfaced, Pothead is hitting on Muffy, I'm....wondering how the fuck I am in any way involved with this character. What next? Karaoke, of course. We head to the next spot. Take a shot from Asian bartender chick who I think may moonlight as a call girl, and is of course friends with Pothead...and we head to the back.

I can't really even explain Ivory's behavior in the karaoke room...but, suffice to say it was positively insane....involved a LOT of stumbling around the room, covering his face with his shirt repeatedly, and a loud, swaying attempt to serenade Muffy from the stage without a microphone.

Muffy and Pothead were gearing up for their duet when the karaoke machine broke, and Ivory was getting more ridiculous by the instant, so we were out. He had now asked me to come home with me at least thirty times, so I proclaimed that Muffy is sleeping on my couch, we are exhausted, and we have to go - NOW.

After a small goodbye struggle, we head out. I make Muffy walk with me to keep up appearances, then a half a block away.....brilliant idea...back to J BBQ and the hot bartender! Done. We play some skee ball, Muffy woos the hot bartender into giving us a free shot of Patron and.........out of the corner of my eye, I see someone swaying and falling and - it's Ivory! FUCK. As I try to break the news to Muffy...Pothead appears behind us.

Ohhhh nooooooo. Ohhh noooooooo this is bad. We have no words, I don't even say anything to Ivory, the bartender gets a good laugh out of it all, and Muffy and I decide...time to GO. Again. For real this time. We ungracefully stumble outside, have a quick chat with a very bizarre little man perched on top of a car like a spider monkey, and sit down to have a cigarette. We're talking about love, lust, and the evening we just had when...what? I am soooooo about to throw up. Apparently my earlier weekend conversation about how I never vomit anymore was a curse, because next thing I know, I am getting the hairy eyeball from an Upper East Sider walking her dog, as I am throwing up on the street. Wow. 32 years old, Sunday night, puking in a planter. C-L-A-S-S-Y.

If you're wondering if I heard from Ivory today, why yes I did:
11:03: "Morning my baby - miss you..."
12:25: "Heidi Heidi :)"
1:15: Missed call.
2:48: "Are you avoiding me or what???? Hope you are having a good day :)"

Apparently I am his princess for-e-va. I need to figure out how to make all men love me like this.