Well my birthday weekend was a mess/success. My Mexican friend was visiting from Mexico City to spend my bday with me, and so I had taken a half day on Friday so we could do touristy things like go to Central Park and drink all day at the Frying Pan. The day started out great when my friend picked up my lunch tab of chili burger and bowl of chili at Big Daddy’s as an early present, and even better, earlier in the day I had received a completely unexpected surprise at work when a box of 18 Sprinkles cupcakes arrived at my desk from my sister (!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!).
The day was going great, and for dinner we went to my new fav restaurant Shitty Crab with S, where they have half-price appetizers, half-price drinks and $1 oysters after 10pm. After finishing two dozen oysters and two Strong Island Ice Teas for dinner, things started to go downhill. We knew we had to save up for my bday party the next day on Fraturday, so we decided to take it easy and go nearby for one birthday shot (my Mexican insisted) and go home to pass out. None of us really know how, but somehow one birthday shot turned into five and before I knew it, I was partying it up with the old Harvard Rugby coach and his married friend, and my Mexican and I were dancing to music videos at Nevada Smith’s until 3:30am before we realized that was a bad idea.
It was a bad idea. The next morning I woke up to a lovely bday gift from my stomach to the toilet of bright green/yellow bile. The more lovely gift though was from my roommates when they surprised me in the living room that morning with an incredibly impressive handmade pop-up dick card and a massage/beauty package Groupon. Yes, a pop-up dick card!! I opened up the carefully hand crafted card and out popped a very life-like dick, complete with pre-cum made of glue spewing out of the tip and a heartwarming message: To another year STD and baby free… May all your men be hung and 6’3″. I was truly touched.
Anyway this year I decided to take a big risk and break my three-year NYC trend by NOT hosting my party at New Ashiya and instead trying out a new place, Japas 27. I had never been to this place before but I had heard it was essentially New Ashiya meets Chorus — it’s all you can eat, all you can sake bomb and all you can karaoke for two hours for the same price as New Ashiya. This place had a lot of promise. I felt uncomfortable not having my party at New Ashiya this year and needed to maintain some semblance of bday tradition, so I of course wore my Sugar Babies bday suit, which is my go-to outfit whenever I’m feeling especially slutty and special.
I arrived to Japas 27 after a good hour of pregaming with peach sorbet vodka floats (not as good as they sound) to find my next big surprise of the weekend: M, K and W also all dressed as Sugar Babies to be my backup singers for the night. After singing my signature Lady Gaga “Edge of Glory,” the night started to blur and all I could remember was SB forcing shot after shot of sake down my throat, and before I knew it, apparently our two hours were up and we were being hustled out and yelled at by the Japas 27 staff to PREASE REAVE.
The rest of the night gets even blurrier, but apparently we headed to Rodeo Bar afterwards where things got even rowdier with continued bday shots for the next few hours. According to other less blackout witnesses, SB was pretty much trying to rape every guy in sight with her tits, SK had already fallen over about 4 or 5 times in the men’s bathroom, SL was put into a cab by some randos on the street who caught him stumbling around in the middle of the street, and I – the most calm of all – tripped on my fuck-me-heels and fell face flat in the bathroom once and with my poor bruised knees stumbled 20 blocks back to F/G’s apartment in Stuy Town at who knows what time, where I apparently passed out curled up on their living room floor with F’s blanket like a peaceful sugar baby.
Poverexic in NYC 