I often tell people I am way beyond my drinking years of rolling in at 5 or 6 in the morning and functioning the next next day. Like, it shocks me, there was a time where I would go out, drink my face off (doing shots of cheap liquor no less), dance, probably fall down a couple of times, go and order the biggest sandwich at Wawa, house it and go to bed at 530 and get up at like, 10 and go to class. I have NO idea how I survived doing it multiple times a week/month.
But I managed to pull it off last night, rolling my ass home at 6 this morning. I still got it!
Last night I got out of work early, and on Mondays I tend to try to hang with one of my besties who works in sports and is awesome. She also works with me at BV's and she is one of the reasons I've managed to not get fired. So last night was supposed to be a low key 9-11 "let's grab a glass of wine night".
Why I thought the W Times Square was the place to do this, I have no idea.
First off, the certain players from the Knicks were out and about. It was actually hilarious because the W Times Square has a lounge called "The Living Room". It is BEYOND touristy. Like, it's directly on 48th street and Broadway. So in this lounge you have me who just got off work, 65 year old tourists from Florida, and a table of men who play basketball and are collectively worth like, 40 mil. And gay French men, LOTS of gay French men there last night for some reason.
Anyway, instead o hanging their head in shame and bowing out of the NY drinking scene for a day or two, dudes were there picking up chicks whose outfits screamed "I might not be in this country legally". So that was a fun exchange to watch.
At the next table though were some baseballers. The ChiSox are in town playing the Yanks. So They were at a table and all of a sudden two women go over to them and sit down. My friend and I watch them for like, 5 minutes. They decide it's a fucking mother daughter tag team.
Now, I love my mom. She is super fucking cool and she's a MPLF (Mom people would like to fuck, I wouldn't want to fuck her). She's a hottie. But the idea of going and picking up baseball players, young ones no less, with my mom, makes me feel like I need to take a shower.
The mom of the two had on this trash tastic leopard print dress that reminded me of the dress that Amber rips off Cher in Clueless. Like, it had little cap sleeves and a ribbon thing around the waist. The other girl was like 6'1" with exceptionally too long brown hair. Hot body, if you go for Amazons (which I don't and personally I have my own feeling toward my happiness at 5'5"), face was fug. Tacky gold skirt, white shirt, weird dark brown wedge heels.
So I'm watching this exchange and one dude starts looking over at me and thinks I'm staring at him. Legit, I wasn't, because I'm bling and in a low lit room I can't see faces more than 10 feet from me. So both us us - me and this guy at the ChiSox table in the hoodie - get up and as he's coming back from the bathroom, he goes "Hey girl".
I can't. I'm like, a stickler for good introductions. "Hey girl" makes me think of "hey girl hey" and automatically I think you're a fucking weirdo.
He follows it with "my name is Aaron".
I'll give you three guesses as to what Aaron this is.
1. 2. 3.
Boone hits it hard, hits it deep, going back at the wall, SEE YA. A WALK OFF HOME RUN FOR AARON BOONE.
(For those of you who don't follow baseball at all (sad), Aaron Boone hit the 11th inning walk off homerun against Tim Wakefield in the 2003 ALCS where the Yankees came back and beat the Redsox which sent them to the World Series where they lost to the Marlins. But it was the single greatest thing I have ever witness in my life).
When I come to this realization and stop playing that game in my head, I shake his hand and proceed to tell him he gave me the best moment of my life, comparable only to my probably non existent wedding. He looked at me like I had ten heads, and then invited me over to his table. To which I responded "I'm sorry but I'm not sitting with the mother daughter tag team."
Also, Aaron Boone is married. And 38 or 39. Really?
Another player from the ChiSox invited us over as well, but when we decided to stay at the bar, both Aaron and other married dude went upstairs. Part of me wants to give them credit for not taking a woman with them, but then again I only saw as far as the elevator, so who the fuck knows. Eventually another player came over and started talking to us. I think he played 2nd base. I have to look him up. He was not married. He kind of looked like Eli Manning. And I kind of just was over it.
Five years ago, I'd have given them my number, my home address, my panties....last night I was just more fascinated by the old bitch and the tall one who I later described to Adam Dunn as "doggie style limited" (meaning you want to fuck her and look at anything but her face. I know, I'm real classy and nice). They actually thought that was funny. But seriously, I can't. Credit where due, everyone seemed to be wearing wedding rings. So that's more than I can say for some soccer players I've uh, chilled with in my life. It also reminded me how fucking easy it is though for these dudes to walk into any city, get a table and some bottles and some moms and daughters and you know, NOT care. Which is why I'm glad the baseball situation gave me up long ago.
But yeah, I don't know if I'm getting too old or too unimpressed. I sadly think it's a little bit of both. But I DID get to tell Aaron Boone he made the best night of my life. And then I got to go to cafeteria and devour mac and cheese spring rolls and monterey jack eggs. I am definitely getting old. I prefer drunk food to drunk possible sex with baseball players. GOD what have I become?