Saturday, May 06, 2006


One of my best friends just got home after living in North Carolina for a year. Yesterday we celbrated her return doing what all "hip" New Yorkers do on a Saturday: consume massive amounts of drugs, shoplift from those trendy stores on Spring Street, and have dinner at Tao. It still amazes me how easy it is to shoplift in Soho. And it seems the nicer and more expensive the stroe is, the easier it gets. Why is it that the stores where everything is $19.99 and under are always the oner with the big plastic tags that go off under the sensors and are impossible to remove? Thats a whole nother entry.
After our leisurely afternoon, we met up with a few other friends at Tao. As anyone who isn't living under a rock knows, Tao is one of those Manhattan places all about people wanting to see and be seen. As someone who has been there a dozen times, I know it is a place full of idiots. My friend and I arrive early, about 10pm, partly because we were bored, partly because the drinks we were having at Phebe's tasted like shit, but mostly because we just like observing the idiocy that goes on in this place. My friend Krisin goes to make a reservation as we go in and they say they'll have one at 10 and then give us one of those ringing pagers. The hostess didn't seem amuesed when I asked "what is this, t.g.i. Friday's?" At least I think I'm funny. The place was sardine can packed but we somehow managed to get seats. I sat back, stoned and slight drunk, eating wasabi peas. We got constant stares from older Sex and the City women. I used to hate these women but now I sort of pity them. If I was a 30 year old fashion buyer living in Murray Hill, I hadn't been laid in 9 months, and I was spending my Friday night with 3 other lound, fat assed men bashers, well, I would have a reason to be angry too. This anger often gets taken out on pretty underage girls. We didn't ask to have your 40 year old men drool over us, in fact most of us find it disgusting.
Annoyed by the constant stares, we moved to the other side of the lounge. Here I sat next to two people who were obviously on a first date. The guy consumed about 5 drinks in 30 minutes, while the woman stared off in the other direction fiddling with her $400 channel sunglasses. There were constant awakward silences and at one point as the guy was rubbing her leg, I actually heard him say "I haven't been with a woman in so long..ya know...months." Ease dropping on other peoples first dates is quite possibly one of my favorite activites.
As two of our guy friends showed up, we relocated to the bar, obviously. Some skeevy looking buisness man bought Kristin and I drinks and denied being married. Bald faced lie. He should have at least waited for the rink mark around his finger to fade. At around the same time, one of the cocktail waitress went up to my friend Aaron, who was sitting at the bar mind you and drinking a drink, and asked him for the third time in 20 minutes if he "needed something to drink."
A little later on I saw the blind-date man waiting outside the womans bathroom. I went to run up the stairs, my munchies had fully taking over my thought process by this point, and all I could see was shrimp tempura & pan-thai noodles. My blurry vision from drinking and my lack of coordination from all the pot I smoked backfired. I made it two steps before tripping UP the steps and losing my purple heel. The 1/2 of the blinddate disaster said to me "oops, looks like you lost a tire." Yes, verbatim. I couldn't come up with this sort of fucked up shit if I tried. He then proceede to pick up my shoe and PUT IT ON for me. Tip for guys trying to get laid: don't compare a chick to a car. After hearing my story, my friend Amy asked "was it like cinderella?" "Yea", I replied "if Cinderella was a low-cut shirt wearing alcoholic and Prince Charming was a creepy E-harmony user with a receeding hairline.
We were seated at that big table directly in front of the humongous buddha. Wonderful. Throughout the meal groups of tourists from Kentucky kept taking taking pictures of the monstrosity. I was seeing spots the entire meal. I had to try my hardest not to scream out this isn't Disneyland, bitches. Sit the fuck down and let me enjoy my four pieces of shrimp. After all, they're probably gonna cost me around 46 dollars. This is how pretentious the place is: if you ask for "just a glass of water" they will bring you mineral water and then charge you $7.50 for it. At one point, 3 tanorexic girls, decided to stage a photoshoot in front of the buddha. Seriously, they took about 50 photos before I even got a chance to order my 8th drink of that night. They were carbon cut-outs of eachother, all wearing those ratty looking denim mini skirts you find at Abercrombie and Fitch. Those destroyed denim ones. Who pays $120 for a skirt with a bunch of holes in it. Shit. Give me $20. I'll buy a $5 skirt from Canal Jeans and fuck it up 10 times better, in 5 minutes flat.
Some 40 year old sugar daddy came up to the girls and practically begged to take the pictures for them. He actually said "come on, work it for me girls." Classy. These chicks were all over him, right in the middle of my meal, like white on rice. They must have sensed he had money. My friends proceeded to talk shit about underage cocksuckers and the Investment Bankers who buy them Dior purses. That's what living in New York does to you: even while stoned, one had the ability and disposition to be angry, insulting and violent.


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