January 4th – Fat Cat

Last night was my sister’s last night in the city. She is heading back University of Georgia where she continue to get paid for handing out As to SEC athletes. But I will be damned if the Bulldogs don’t appreciate the hell of theater after she is done with them. I call Agent XI and we head down to the Fat Cat to spend one last night with her.

The Fat Cat is hipster’s paradise. On a Monday night the place is packed. It offers live jazz as well as a gazillion different games. People are playing pool, ping pong, shuffleboard, Scrabble, Chess, and even Magic the Gathering. There are couches everywhere just to chill out with a group of friends. No one seems particularly concerned that is a Monday night.

My sister hands me my first PBR can as she walks to me where her friends are. It is her friend Jordan’s birthday. Jordan is not only a talented actor but he also sports the world’s most impressive Jewfro. Seth Rogen would bow in Jordan’s Jewfrodom. A couple of other friends of my sister I know are there including Sheets. We sit around talk, I grab another PBR can, in order to fit in better around the gaggle of starving actors and actresses.

After some bullshitting I offer to play Agent XI in some chess. Loser buys next round. Despite his prep school and Ivy League education, Agent XI had no chance against a Math Team Legend like myself. He easily falls for wildcat offensive. As he goes to retrieve a PBR can as his penance, I bask in the glow of victory that can only be appreciated by someone who goes to Comic Book stores every Wednesday. And lets face it the ladies dig nerds. Well at least in theory.

The second game is even more crushing when I announce there is no way for Ian to win. Showing him every single maneuver he can do would lead to his imminent demise I allow to take back a couple of moves (he was already in a fairly deep grave) and played from there. I eventually lose after a couple of resets but go on to enjoy my last victory PBR can.

Drinking and Chess is where it is at … if, of course, you have no desire to meet women.

January 2nd – Gin Mill

Agent XI calls me early in the evening to tell me he is tapping out tonight. So I call my friend Rob. Rob is easily one of the best people to go drinking with mostly because there is zero chance anyone will fight me when I am out with Rob. Rob is about 6′3″ maybe 250 lbs of pure muscle. He makes pro wrestlers seem small. He may be even larger than that but if I elaborate you may realize my homoerotic whiffleball based crush on him or my love 90s WWF wrestling. Both are too severely embarrassing to go into this early in the year.

Rob and I decide to meet up at the Gin Mill which is easily one of the best bars in the city. In fact everything I have gone to at this point is on my top ten bars list. Hell probably in my top five. Gin Mill is fairly cheap, full of interesting people, has cherry wheat on tap, has every sports package imaginable, and has beer pong in the back.

I get there before Rob does and order myself a pitcher of Cherry Wheat. As I wait for Rob a drunk girl continues to bump into me and declares she feels her personal space violated. The bar is jammed packed and her boyfriend is desperately trying to drag her out. Everyone starts laughing as she declares a couple more ridiculous things include a titanic conspiracy theory.

Rob arrives and orders me a Jameson shot for being late. I really didn’t mind anyway but what the hell. Rob and I decide to discuss travel plans for the upcoming year including a Montreal road trip, a trip to West Palm for spring training, and the impending Vegas/Japan Agent XI birthday trip. Rob starts talking to Michigan State fans. We all get a Tullamore Dew shot from the bartender who is feeling bad for the Michigan St. fans as it looks like Leach locked their team in a closet.

After the sad Spartans move on a new group of girls are lured in by Rob. Rob notes I am a little sullen and I explain that I am a bit emotionally drained from David Tennant’s last episode as Doctor Who. Yes Virgina, nerds do exist. I finish up my pitcher and receive a Code Blue from Justin my kindly barkeep. It is supposedly some sort of hangover prevention and tastes decent enough. At this point Justin has been a cool guy and I decide now it is time to send out my Africa request. To my infinite amusement, Justin is even more of a fan than I am (that is nearly impossible) and decides to bribe the DJ into “ruining the flow” (Africa never ruins the flow, DJs, never.)

I grab a Guinness and decide to be social with the new group of girls. Angie thinks it is pretty cool I can admit being a nerd not realizing I have very little shame. We get into a discussion of how comic books are unrealistic since girls in comics are not really into the bad boys but in real life they are. Jean Grey stays with Cyclops in real life? No chance.

Before I even order, Justin hands me a second Guinness. He says it is for victory. Then the soothing melody of Africa envelops me. Rob doesn’t know the lyrics as well as Justin, me, and the girls so he walks off. One of the girls asks me to play Naked Photo Hunt with her. She is an expert. I mean I have never seen anyone as good as this. I start humming Pinball Wizard as LJ pounds double nipples and different color pumps. We end up with the 4th highest score. As this is going o,n Rob starts trying to grab me.

At this point we are dealing with a Drunk Point Critical situation. Rob is pretty much at the end of his charming level drunk and has found his last consciously chosen girl for the night. Next drink and he might as well be playing hookup roulette if he is even able to get with anyone. I relent as I find that LJ is pretty one dimensional and that massive Naked Photo Hunt skills simply is not enough to keep my attention that long. I walk over and realize that good ol’ Rob is hitting on a girl that works for one of my clients. This one client is still waiting for some work to be finished. Awesome.

After the awkward discussion and the ninja like escape keeping Rob away from my work life a game of dodge the questions about Rob. I tell Justin it is time I hit the rickety road, sign out my tab. Justin does one more Tullamore Dew with me and I drag Rob outside.

Rob pleads to have one cigarette before we leave which doesn’t bother me in the least besides the freezing cold temperature. That is when I meet Jen N. She is a nursing student from Oregon which makes me laugh because my last girlfriend was a nursing student from Oregon. Jen tells me she was crying the other day after the Ducks blew the Rose Bowl and I murmur at least she doesn’t like Princess Stories.

Jen invites me in and I decide to grab a Cherry Wheat pint while I continue my conversation with Jen. I meet her friends Bald Bob and Kate. They get a huge kick out of the book and Bob and Rob nearly make out as they man flirt with each other. Jen and Kate laugh at this.

At this point, the game of hook up roulette has begun. Jen asks me to play date so her previous suitor, Smelly, would pass her by. Smelly then bounces to the 50 year old women dancing behind us. I mean she was a good looking 50 year old, maybe even 40 but she was old. After this Kate grabs the notebook and Bob, leaving Rob without a dance partner. Rob then bounces to Utah, a cute wasted blonde that was still in college. For no reason at all Rob walks away from the adoring Utah and bounces Smelly off of 50 year old. Smelly dejected bounces to Utah. Utah is pissed that she is losing to a woman double her age. Utah rejects Smelly then bounces to Date Rape. The guy looks like typical douchebag villian from college movies and ends every sentence with “Lets have a shot”. Now Rob decides he doesn’t want 50 year old anymore and walks back to Utah. Date Rape tries to intimidate Rob (hilariously) and Utah splits. In the final move, Date Rape starts buying 50 year old shots. Rob and Smelly cockblocked.

Kate takes over my notebook for the rest of the evening as I finish off my last Guinness of the night

Robs love each other. Everyone names “Rob” will have gang sex w/ each other

“I have a huge vagina” – Tom

Dear Tom,

I like your notebook!

Live long & prosper.

Kate

A guy also gave Kate his number which she wrote in the notebook. Bald Bob stole the notebook became angry upon reading about his homoerotic love for Rob decided to write:

“Jenlfer” w/ Penis (reference to the number)

I (me, the guy that owns this notebook) was futiley futily nilting on Jen instead working oni info for my pilot i should probably know when to quit but sue was very friendly and altomodaxing!

Rob (Asshole)

Another good Journal night.

January 1st – Asian Pub

The Artist Formerly Known As Ian (or TAFKAI for those of you into abbreviations [Thanks Tuche]) and I jump in cab. The cab drive is pretty inconsequential as we talk about football bets (Bet Alabama) until we arrive at Cooper Sq. This is when the cab driver in cab 18HN decides to be a prick. He doesn’t pull over right away then pulls the “I need cash my credit card machine isn’t working” routine. This is bullshit as the thing is working. As I begin to argue I realize the guy hasn’t shut off his meter. I tell the guy to turn off the meter to which he replies to scream at the top of his lungs in Hindi. Cute. Cute enough for me to dial 311.

Normally I am against using bureaucracy. It is a pain since it involves the two things I least want to deal with on my weekends, waiting in digital lines and digital controlled menus. However my good friend screaming in Hindi pushed me to my limit. When he realizes what I am doing and that I wrote his cab number down, he stops ranting and suddenly the credit card machine works. Too late, I throw the guy exact change and leave as he screams about tipping being courteous. So is not being a lying prick. And if you are going to be a lying prick at least be funny about it.

We get into Asian Pub at 12:25 AM. I order my go to Gin and Tonic. Of course my stripper song, “Billie Jean” starts playing and I start dancing with the hostess Elina who is apparently from Russia.

Sena arrives at 1:07 AM and Elina and Sena grab my notebook. Apparently this is not as dorky as I first thought. I order a Black Prince as Elina does the first guest writing of the Book of 2010.

Happy New Year! With love from Russia!!! and Elina

(Elina’s Signature)

At this point, I would like explain something I will do pretty much every single time I go out. Now Billie Jean is my go to stripper song but Africa by Toto is my drunk bar request song. Africa is the perfect bar “scream at the top of your lungs off key” song. The lyrics are slammed together sloppily to begin with. There are some great “just scream a couple of words” lyrics for those who don’t know the song intimately like the pros. Also there is a flute solo which is concluded by the second best line in the song “HURRY BOY SHE IS WAITING THERE FOR YOU”. Africa is a song you simply can get way too excited for and still seem cool in your own mind. People will laugh with you or if they truly are cool, get far too excited too.

Now Agent XI and I always trying to make bartenders and djs to play this musical masterpiece. The key is persistence. Borrow, Bargain, Beg, Compliment, Threaten bad behavior, whatever it takes we are going to hear Africa. In case the bartender or DJ somehow suck and don’t have Africa on their playlist, Agent XI has the song on his iPhone. We use Elina to convince the rest of the staff that we should be given carte blanche in order to get the place rocking.

Agent XI plugs in his iPod as I order a Black Prince. The music starts playing. At this point Agent XI and I start getting overly excited. This is key. If you do this right off the start people will feed off your energy and get overly excited too. I don’t think it really matters what is happening. Someday I may try a “Parliament is in session” excitement chant. Music starts blaring, and destiny is ours or so we thought.

As Africa is raining down on us and we get the crowded bar singing, Boring Jen is standing outside the bar. One of Agent XI’s friends, Boring Jen should have realized his text only policy to avoid awkward situations as the tragedy that is about to occur. During the flute solo, Boring Jen calls. This shuts off the song. WHAT?!? I suddenly realized that Luke Wilson is a lying cash whore. Naturally the entire bar starts booing. I mean it was a flute solo ruined. Being the kindly gentlemen I am, I start a Boring Jen sucks chant as she wait for Agent XI to come find her. The chant dies down when I get distracted by my Black Prince as Sena spills on herself. In her embarrassment Sena grabs the notebook and starts playing Secretary, well not the way I would have preferred to play Secretary.

Ricardo says he’s WASTED!

Secretaries Run the Office!

Bad Decisions are being made in the Village tonight

- Sena

Now I order my third Black Prince (a delightful Guinness/brandy mix) when I made one too many secretary jokes and Sena storms out. Of course she just did this to have a piss with me. She texts laughing at my reaction.

Night is over as I grab a cab with an awesome driver. Tip him well and start my trek up the five stories to my apartment. I consider my first night out in 2010 a success.

January 1st – Alpha

I arrive at Alpha at about 9:30.

Ian is running late and I meet Amanda and Pearl. They sense my style and class immediately and ask where to find a good cheap bar in the city. Reflecting a moment, I give the girls the address to Asian Pub. The girls and I begin to talk football when I realize that girls have very little football acumen as Amanda divulges that only men find Tom Brady attractive. This is like talking to Knicks fan about basketball. To diffuse the tension, Henry brings out a round of Sake Bombs. I pound my sake bomb and instruct the hapless lady folk on the proper procedure

I follow this with Bud Light pint as the girls leave. The man sitting next me, clearly recognizing my immense creative talent, asks me what I am writing in. I explain the concept of the notebook and the man acts impressed. He introduces himself as Reeves, and he is the head of the SVA film and video department. He seems pretty interested in the concept of my journal but in reality I think he was sympathizing that I had to talk two women who clearly had no concept of the game of football (we all know everyone finds Tom Brady gorgeous).

As Reeves leaves, Ian comes in. Well not Ian, at least according to his new SAG card. No, no apparently Agent XI was too good to wait in line anymore in imdb. So now I am drinking with the artist formerly known as Ian. Of course Agent XI still enjoys the usual Alpha go to of a pitcher of bud light and a bottle of hot sake which we split.

We start going over what we need to do this month which includes finishing the terrible script of our pilot (Code Named EVERYONE LOVES TOM BRADY) and attend the Rodeo next weekend. The Rodeo at MSG has been a dream of ours for about a month and there is no way we are letting it go. If I don’t see Calf Wrestling live, I may cry.

With our second bottle of sake, we discuss when it became illegal to challenge someone to a duel. Apparently it is cool if you are Alexander Hamilton but if you are Gilbert Arenas?

Agent XI and I as for the check, discuss plans for his birthday trip to Japan via Vegas, and go next door to grab some pizza. I note how my handwriting has become terrible and we go to the next bar.

Mission Statement

Every year I hear people ramble on about their New Year’s resolutions. How they are going to change themselves or something they don’t like. It is usually preachy and within 2 months, they are even annoyed with their own rhetoric. Fact is New Year’s resolutions as worthless as the chick that made it one and half episodes on the Jersey Shore. Sure she was great in the beginning but she fell off right away.

So I thought about something to useful to do and I remembered high school. In high school when I was rolling deep with my math team crew, I use to journal. It beat the crap out of actually listening in class and teachers figured I was taking notes or at the very least I was being quiet, which was a huge plus for them. The journals turned out great because I got awesome quotes and didn’t learn a god damn thing in high school. Take that 19th century feminist literature.

I decided I would do this again. But instead of writing every day in work, where almost nothing interesting happens, I will force myself to drag a notebook out every time I go out to drink. That way I can log every drink of the New Year. I may write about non drinking events if they strike me as particularly interesting but this is really a drinking journal.

I know what you are thinking and I also agree that the Hudsucker Proxy is an underrated film. Also you are thinking “What about your drinks from New Year’s Eve?” Yes, I had drinks after midnight on New Year’s Eve some of which was a bottle of Jack Daniels given to me by friend Henry but that was New Year’s Eve. As far as I am concerned that was all December 31st. No one says I went drinking from Saturday to Sunday last night unless they are in Vegas. As far as I am concerned days start when I wake up and end when I fall asleep. Take that common convention. Though this is going to get pretty confusing the day I travel back from Japan.

So that is it. Every drink in 2010 goes in the journal. Party on Garth.