Gibson had Tequila, Haggard had Crystal Meth…
I had gotten a text message from my friend Steve telling me about our friend Maria’s birthday. They were going to Swift (34 East 4th St, NYC). It’s a large, crowded bar with a diverse and loud selection of music. Swift is one of a trio of mutually-owned, Irish literature-themed pubs in NYC. The other two are Puck Fair and Ulysses. You can even shuttle between the three.
Despite a few territorial pissers in the crowd who got mad at the mere eye glance or body rub—things that are a bit hard to avoid in such close quarters—this is a really great place. The pints of Guinness are perfect and even with a three-deep wait at the bar, the service is relatively fast.
As the night progressed, one particular patron who will remain nameless began with a wholly unfunny rendition of Mel Gibson at the side of the road in Malibu. He began berating people for being Jews. Other slightly more amusing exchanges came as he would introduce me to people I already knew calling me a writer in Europe. Well I’ve been to Europe twice and did write about it, so fair enough.
Later a handful of us ended up at Trinity (229 E 84th St, NYC). The fun part about hanging out with people on their birthday is getting free shots. Maria handed me a shot, I asked what it was. I don’t remember what she said but it was apple … very, very apple. I quickly switched back to Guinness.
Our overly inebriated friend had left Swift before us and we all assumed he had gone home mostly because that’s what he told us. To our surprise some time later, in he strolled into Trinity. Soon he had found a new thing to rant about; how baby Suri looked too Asian to be Tom Cruise’s child. He’d say it to anyone who’d listen and even those who wouldn’t, “Have you ever seen Tom Cruise’s sperm? It’s not Asian.”
It was time to leave Trinity and out on the streets our friend nearly got us in trouble by arguing with a cop. A section of sidewalk had been taped off due to some activity. He decided that this was not right. When the cop yelled, “Please walk on the street,” this guy yelled back, “Why?” At that point I think we had all had enough. At about 5:30 and after stopping for some food, we called it a night.
The next day an email came blaming a certain someone’s actions on the NyQuil he had taken earlier in the night before drinking. So in a way he was continuing the Mel Gibson theme but instead of Tequila, it was over-the-counter cold meds that did him in. I don’t think anyone really bought it. To be honest, if it was the NyQuil and alcohol mix, he would’ve never made it passed midnight, let alone to eating pancakes at 5:00.
See Also:
Swift, NYC
