FAREWELL TO INK 9-10-04
We all (Ink, Ran-D, and I) got together and met up with Josh Clark, Paul, Zack, and Zack's friend Wayne for Ink's last hurrah in the US. It happened to be fashion week so I lined up a good model party for us to make an appearance at.
But first we pregamed it at Josh's apartment with Paul playing bartender. He mixed up a bunch of crazyness, we toasted the night and to Ink's safe voyage, then we shot out to our first venue.
We showed up at LUAHN's where there was a model party / open bar. Charles at www.Hustlemode.com totally hooked his boy up on this one. The event tonight was called THE FDR PARTY (Female Dee Jays Rule). There would be casting reps from like five of the top modeling agencies there, including the one that casts for "America's Next Top Model."
I guess we showed up early and models are accustomed to showing up fashionably late, or nobody else knew about the open bar cocktail hour except for me and my boyz, who were all comped (thanks to Charles; folks, don't try this at home, this doesn't happen in reality).
Now let me tell you; there is nothing more dangerous than a group of sober guys alone with an open bar.
Other than the doorman, the female DJ and the bartender, we were the only people in the joint.
Ant showed up half way through the open bar (and since he showed up later, he had to pay to get in- the door was actually really strict -Zack had invited some girls he hadn't told me about, but they weren't on the list and couldn't get in.
We started with Vodka doing screwdrivers and cape codders. We took a bunch of photos. As the clock was running down on the open bar we started doing non-stop rounds of shots as fast as they could be poured. I do not recommend this. After about 10 toasts to Ink's escape from America.
After the open bar closed we broke out vowing to return when the models do. Ink had made plans for us to swing by a small bar on Second Avenue to see one of his old professors from New Jersey.
On the way to the bar, out in front of St. Marks Church Josh and Zack started joke wrestling. I pulled Zack off of Josh and put him in a half nelson, then Zack started wrestling me. I didn't notice that my favorite yellow shades fell off in our tussle until we had already broken it up and gotten into the bar to meet up with Ink's teacher.
I ran back to the church minutes later, and of course, the shades were gone.
Anthony suggested that we go to that bar that his hot teacher bartends at (See SUBWAY FASHION SHOW) .
When we got to the bar we all got right in, or so I thought. The news was relayed to me later after I had drink in hand that Ran-D gotten tossed at the door. Apparently as he was walking in he passed out in mid step.
The bouncer wouldn't let him in after seeing that. Paul babysat Ran-D holding him up and keeping him conscious on the sidewalk for a few minutes (as payback for Ran-D helping Paul out last time- see SOPRANOS PARTY) and they took a cab back to Josh and Paul's apartment.
We didn't realize how bad Ran-D's condition really was. He had drunk so much alcohol that it had turned toxic in his system and when he got back to the apartment he was puking black bile in the bathtub. (We heard about this later)
As for us, we chilled out there for a bit then we decided to go back to Luahn's to see if the "model" part of the night had picked up.
Josh Clark headed back to his apartment to get some sleep because he was catching an early flight to Florida in the morning.
So we arrived at Luahn's and this time it was packed. There were hot glistening model caliber women dancing everywhere. Ink and Wayne instantly started dancing with the women. I by this time was too shot to dance.
I then made the biggest mistake a person drinking heavily can make: I SAT DOWN. I was sitting there, soaking in the music, soaking in the eye candy, and the room just started spinning out of control.
I shot to my feet and started cutting through the crowd. Vomit was on its way and it was only a matter of my own leg speed as to where it would land. It had passed the point of no return, I knew that much, and there was no going back.
I made it into the bathroom and dove onto my knees and grabbed the toilet lid (there were no walls, just an exposed toilet in the middle of the room.) To my drunken confusion the toilet lid was completely duct taped shut.
I shot to my feet and jumped toward the garbage can, which was one of those garbage cans that are built into the wall. So I just stood there grabbing the wall in a "being pat down by cops" position as I expelled what I thought were the entire contents of my stomach. I later learned that this was the tip of the iceberg.
I went back to my seat and watched Wayne, who when I left was dancing, do a nosedive into the couches. He was out cold.
We got outside with Wayne's lifeless arms supporting him over my and Ink's shoulders. We propped him up onto a small tree out front and tried calling Josh to see where he was and if anyone knew where Ran-D and Paul were.
We heaved Wayne into the back of a cab and piled in behind him. When we got back to Josh's house Wayne puked on Josh's front entryway.
When we got in there we found Ran-D sleeping on the couch with his head on a pillow that was wrapped in a garbage bag (Hinting at how his night went).
Paul brought another bag for Wayne who started puking for the next half hour. We hung a handheld plastic shopping bag over Wayne's ears like a feedbag so he could puke without assistance.
We then watched "The Girl Next Door" which we thought was the unrated version, only to learn half way through that it wasn't.
Ink kept bitching and bitching. Some girl in Montclair he was supposed to hook up with that night wasn't able to make it into the city so Ink had this grand idea that we would drive out of there and help him out with his booty call. Ran-D drove Ink and Myself, so Ink kept trying to get Ran-D to get up and drive us.
Ran-D, on the other hand, should have been driven to the emergency room to have had his stomach pumped.
Since Ant had showed up later, he had driven separately. Ink started begging Ant to drive him. And, although outweighing me by a hundred pounds, was still hammered.
I vaguely remember Ink stomping his foot in a hormone fueled temper tantrum storming out of the apartment saying he would catch a bus to Montclair (and laughing in my mind because I knew busses don't go to Jersey after like 1:00 AM, and hearing him knock on the door a little while later to be let back in).
That's about where I passed out.
I probably puked about six times over the course of the night and the next day, once on the floor just outside the bathroom door when I ran to the bathroom to puke and found Ran-D was in there puking.
We drove home in the afternoon after playing Mario Cart and watching "American Wedding" on DVD.
A lesson in drinking hard learned.
Just another day in the life of an Art Juggernaut.
-Cojo