One of the many amazing things about New York City is Fleet Week. Naval ships from all over the world converge on the harbor to show off their vessels and earn some much-needed leave. Tonight, the streets were crawling with able seamen (and seawomen) in dress whites. A group of guys from the USS Wasp decscended on the bar. That's when the drinking amped up a notch.
A second Hoegaarden was chased by a shot of MacCallan 12 as we toasted our boys. Our fantastic barman, Peter, bought me a Harpoon to sip while "Lemon" (apparently his real name) bent my ear about his plans to buy up middle-class housing in Central Pennsylvania after his stint in the Navy was over. As he consumed more alcohol, this evolved into a kind of a sales pitch in his quest to find financial partners. I tried to explain that he was barking up the wrong tree by talking to me, but he wouldn't have it! A shot of Patron Tequila sealed the deal (what the deal was, I have no idea)! David and I were sure that Lemon's shipmate (Keith?) was winning over a pretty young woman at the bar. We even tried to get "P" to leave them alone, but all of a sudden, these guys left just as quickly as they had arrived, so Debra joined us for a few before her bus ride back to Teaneck.
My notes got increasingly sketchy as the night wore on, but I have something about a Heaven and Hell Party in Long Island (apparently, there really is such a thing); she was an angel, of course. According to the notes this was thrown by Super-Stickyman, someone she knew from her months at Rutgers. Is it just me, or are kids these days incomprehensible? Anyway, eventually "P" and I called it night, David having already left at some point (I think). Beer Authority turned out to be a fun joint. Another classic DNO in the books.#237