blogvid

matt, liz and i are taking a bartending class at the Columbia school of mixology. every monday 8-10 pm we go to 'class' and have a ball. the 'prof' and 'TA' are undergrads with a passion for boozin. the first hour of every class involves the teachers making drinks and handing them out to the class, adn the second half the students get to line up and make drinks of their own. on thursday night i went to Radio Perfecto, the local bar i frequent, esp. on thursday nights. matt and i got especially boozed and especially hooked up. my bill was $13.00 which is redonkulous given how much i drank. anyways we got to the everyone has left the bar except for a few troopers and we've had plenty to drink, and were hungry point, so we left for tom's "you know the seinfeld" restaurant. on the way there we ran into the prof and TA from our mixology class. where are you going they query? to get some food. nope, you're coming with us to the west end. ok. we go there, they determing it is lampy (in more words of course, not everyone is as blessed as we are to have such a versatile word) and we went to "nacho," which i htink is actually caleed nacho bar, but i am uncertain. matt and i keep looking at each other like wtf are we doing, we dont need more drinks, but hey its been a while since we've had to brown nose for a good grade, and fuck its never been by drinking with the teach, so this seems worth it. within a minute another undergrad recognizes matt as his TA and says "oh man, you're awesome, i gotta buy you a drink." moments later matt is blessed with a "strong island" in hand. our 'friends' dissapear as i suspected they would so we wander. not our scene, if we even have one, to say the least. we decide to go down a spiral staircase in the middle of the bar/restaurant. at the bottom are large oil-barrle size plasticcontainers. we touch the rice inside. i wonder how often this happens, and how pften the drunks do more than just touch their rice. we get to the top of the stairs to find a short hispanic dude asking us if we went down there. i try to convince him that we thought it was the bathroom (most NY bathrooms are downstaris, and we were drunk). i apologized, and i did it all in spanish. no ideai if he spoke spanish, just being a sterotypical asshole, i guess. anyway, he was not very pleased. so we wander back to whence we came near the front of the bar. we are satisfied that we have made an impression on our profs and can now go get some grub. then the classic "tequila" comes on. at first i know i know the song, but cannot put my finger on what it is. next thing i know the hottie bartenders are up on the bar with cheap booze in hand. "TEQUILA!!!" it all becomes clear. i am too close to the bar to avoid the attack of the free cheap tequila. i think i would actually pay someone to not drink that shit, but there i was. matt too. then she comes back and starts pouring over my head again, so i take it like a little boy. it was pretty nasty. i almost vomited. but i did not. i did however drool all over the place- somehow i can salivate a lot and avoid vomiting- usually. we were officially out of there and off to place where everbody knows your name. i mean, a place about nothing.