When this boy wandered into the grown-up revelry at Mulligan’s in Hoboken, he appeared to be fresh into his twenty-first year. As the floor heaved and hoed under his unsteady feet, he masterfully worked his magic moves on the ladies. I’m not sure why they took such offense to his smooth approach of stumbling backwards until he knocked them off balance. After all, his slurred apologies were clearly sincere.
I felt sorry for this child as the bartenders cut off his booze supply. His pathetic white-bread ghetto cries of, “why you gonna play me like that?” and “what I do wrong yo?” fell upon deaf ears. Couldn’t they see the maturity behind this culturally confused facade? Did they also miss the pleas of forgiveness from his equally mature frat brethren?
The boys had another uncanny talent of driving away all of the pretty girls. That is not an easy thing to do on a Saturday night of 80’s music. It takes the skill of true drunken masters to completely clear a room so quickly while ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’ is playing. Still, they are young and, as hard as this may be to believe, perhaps there are more things for them to learn. Like how to pass out puking on a locked bathroom floor.
The line of pee filled men grew longer and longer as the operatic howls of heaving echoed in the halls. This was one clearly well trained and experienced partygoer. He had the presence of mind to leave his buddies and find a safe quarter for his illness to run its course. When this long moment had passed, he was gracious enough to allow willing staffers help him to the door and call him a taxi.
Of course this situation did not put off such a pro. Leaning on the wall, basking in the victory over his vomit, he was completely unaware that another man had taken his ride. No need to stress though. He struggled to work the buttons on his phone obviously calling others to brag about the evening’s events so they can live vicariously thru his actions.
Or perhaps he was waiting to meet that really loud, off-balance blonde who everyone thinks is funny. I’m sure her sorority sisters will talk her into doing stand-up at some point. Maybe he was hoping to match wits with the deceptively skinny man’s man who, despite his inability to cast a shadow, could curse and bully around his girlfriend with true grit and class. We the meek and fearful kept our distance.
Oh how I long for others to focus all attention on me as I waltz aimlessly through the night. Bumping into people and knocking over things. Getting mad at the former and trying to talk to the latter. I want my puke induced prayers to be heard late into the night. Such as those of the young woman kneeling and coughing, “Why God? Oh dammit why!?” behind that cigarette sign on Washington Street as I walked by.
Maybe someday, if I practice hard and study right, I just may get the chance.
