THE LAST FIVE ...
Closing up shop
It may be time for a change
Entry in the air
Music of the moment
Or ... BE RANDOM!
Thursday, Aug. 18, 2005 - 9:22 a.m.
Time to relax
It's only Thursday? Ugh. We need a weekend. We need a break.
Two weeks ago, for me at least, it was my bachelor party. Not a stereotypical, Tom Hanksian blowout with the dancing girls, but a more laid-back day and night out with the guys.
"I was a little disappointed when I saw we weren't going to a strip club," one friend of mine said a few weeks beforehand -- as he held his son's bottle while the kid drank for half an hour.
"It's just not something I feel I have to do," I said. "I thought back to your party and how we didn't do any of that."
"I know," he answered. "And I'm really regretting it now. Help a guy out! Sometimes you just want to get another perspective!"
"I'm sorry. I don't have a problem going to watch the show, but I'm not really into the petting zoo aspect of it. I can do without the lap dances."
So our Saturday -- a perfect, sunny, barely humid afternoon -- was spent out at Shea Stadium watching a 2-0 Mets win over the Cubs. The seven of us had checked into a midtown hotel, so after the game we had somewhere to nap and shower before going out for a succulent steak dinner. From there, we hopped to two of my favorite bars in the city -- Old Town and the White Horse -- with a stop at E. Waverly for something new before one last stop at the upstairs hotel bar, having earlier stepped out to the rooftop lounge.
Staying out until 2 a.m., sitting awake until 3, I found myself in a situation I hadn't been in for a long, long time -- come 10 a.m. the next morning, I couldn't move. My head was lead and I had the feeling that if anything -- even water -- went into my mouth, I wouldn't be able to handle it.
Thankfully, that feeling passed, and when four of us drove back to New Jersey for a late breakfast at a River Road diner, I nibbled at my French toast and fries. By the afternoon, I was feeling significantly better and able to finish off half of my Jackson Hole burger.
Last weekend, one of my best friends got married and her wedding served as another reunion of the high school friends I know more from e-mail now than I do from nights at the movies or hanging out at one another's houses. Friday night out. Saturday afternoon wedding (black tie in 102 degree heat and high humidity), Saturday night reception. By the time Casey and I got home from the mall on Sunday -- where we'd gone to buy me a new suit for our own ceremony -- there was nothing left. We split up, she taking the bed and me curling up on the couch with the Mets game on, the two of us waking up an hour or so later in time to watch the storms roll through and the lightning light up the sky over the Hudson River.
This weekend? Relaxation. A more leisurely outing to Coney Island on Saturday for that evening's Brooklyn Cyclones game, but nothing more than that. We'll sleep in and we'll go out, but we'll take a break this weekend from the knocking back another drink at 1 a.m.
Just for this weekend.
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