Looking dapper young man, now where is Eduardo to get me another sassafrass on the rocks
There is nothing I like more then a good ol’ Thursday night happy hour….of course there is a good old fashioned spanking, but that is a whole other column altogether. Thursday may just be the perfect night to go out drinking. There is only one day left in the work week and everyone can show up and get sloshed in their suits and pantyhose. There is nothing better then a drunk person in loafers and an alligator sweater, or in my household we like to call it, ‘being Republican’. Dressing racy on a Thursday night involves unbuttoning your top two buttons and sometimes the naughtier girls even take off their tights. Saturday night you can show up half naked in a plastic bikini with tassels and it's perfectly fine, but Thursday you better show up in some slacks damnit and they better be pressed.
When I was without a job during the summer of 2004, otherwise known as ‘when life was good and suicide wasn’t an option’, I remember getting dressed up like I had a job just to go out to the bars. I would put on my khaki’s best and show up to meet my friends for drinks like I had just come from the office. I would even maybe spill a bit of coffee on the side of my knee, just for authenticity. Sometimes at the bar I would get on my cell phone and yell things like, “Yeah, those TPS reports, I need them, by tomorrow! And go fax me some…ugh, things…Eduardo! Yes boy stop questioning me and go do it now!..” And normally that was right about the time my grandpa would hang up the phone on me.
I was very insecure that summer about not having a job and when guys would ask me what I do for a living I had the whole, “a little bit of this, a little bit of that” speech down… Only later did I learn that is what most drug dealers say as well. I would also say I had “meetings” to go to with Ellen…and by “Ellen” I did mean, the actual show ‘Ellen’.
One of my good friends and I met through a love of gin and tonics in Midtown East. We bonded over Thursday night alcoholism and let me say, we have been friends ever since. And when we discovered we also shared a love for mozzarella sticks it was all I could do to not cry at the bar and give her a huge hug…but I didn’t, only because that might mess up the sweater tied around my neck...I mean hey, it was Thursday.
