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 Sutton
Place Blues
It was a rough night at the bars for my boys and me. We went
to this bar in Uptown Manhattan called Sutton Place, on the corner
of 53rd Street and 2nd Avenue. Nugget, Wormser and I met up in
the downstairs and sat at the bar watching the game since it wasn’t
hoppin’ yet. Wormser always liked to go out early and be
on time for everything. Nugget had nothing better to do outside
of his job as a supermarket manager. And I, well I’m a workaholic
that has no notion of time, so I’m always late for everything.
Nugget bought the first round, a few pints of Sam Adams to start
the night. My fraternity brothers have always been beer drinkers,
so I tend to go with the flow when I hang with them, coining the
phrase, “whatever you’re having,” when someone
else buys a round. They know not to ask anymore, but sometimes
they just do it for kicks. When it’s my turn to buy, it’s
usually beers all around, plus a Grey Goose and Red Bull for me.
After downing a couple rounds of Sams, we went upstairs to the
second floor. I always liked the upstairs of Sutton better than
the downstairs because the atmosphere’s less barlike and
more like a lounge. We usually avoid the roof since that’s
where all the smokers hang out.
It was my turn to buy, so I went to the bar and ordered a round
of drinks. There was a cute yuppie chick standing next to me and
I had her figured out in a few seconds. I came prepared tonight,
a wad of cash in my brand new Nautica wallet, free of any wear
or circular condom imprints. I opened my wallet at just the right
angle so that the little Uptown Girl could see the wad I had within,
and was about to pay for the drinks when the girl asked, “do
you have change for a twenty?”
It was a definite ice breaker – we were both at the bar
and it was silly of her to ask me for change when the bartender
was right there in front of us. I humored her, spreading a few
bills on the bar to show that there were no singles in the pile
and pulled out a ten and two fives for her. She seemed pleased
and we had a quick two minute conversation before I left the bar
to see my friends. I wouldn’t be able to keep up that game
for much longer than a night and this girl didn’t give me
the impression that she’d come home for the evening so I
decided to save her for last call if she was still there and nothing
else turned up. High maintenance can be fun but it also drains
the pocketbook.
Wormser was already working his magic. He had the biggest balls
of any Jew I knew, chutzpah they call it. The only problem with
his game was that he hated buying girls drinks. The three of us
have on occasion met groups of women that were actually interested
in conversation with us, long enough for the drinks to run dry.
I’ve stepped up to the plate in the past and bought a round
to keep the convo going for another 15 minutes, but Wormser was
stubborn as a mule and refused to play. He still had game though,
with the low maintenance girls that we meet at some of the Irish
bars.
I joined Nugget and Wormser in th little circle they formed with
what had to be the most perfectly matched group of women for us
I could have ever hoped for. A hot one for Wormser since he had
the balls to make a solid attempt, a cute-enough girl for me and
a total grenade for Nugget. Nugget loved to jump on the grenade
for his boys. His mindset has always been that ugly girls need
love too. Hell, we’ve all been there, but he actually looked
for it. He didn’t waste time on the hotties, going for the
sure thing whenever it presented itself. His nickname would have
been Hogger, except for the fact that one of the older bros already
had that name.
“Hi, I’m Beef,” I said.
I knew better than to let the guys introduce me. We were all adults
at this point, but for some reason my boys never let that gene
for being a gentleman come to maturity. My cute-enough girl, Wormser’s
hottie and the grenade each introduced themselves as Monica, Julie
and Emma respectively. The Beef thing didn’t surprise them
as the guys already clued them in on the whole nickname bit.
We stood around, talked and eventually finished our drinks. Wormser
was making good headway with the hottie, and Nugget was already
holding hands with the grenade. I had to seal the deal with the
cutie and we’d be all good to go. Only problem was, it was
Wormser’s turn to buy a round, and having just bought one
I was not about to buck up in his stead. So, I nonchalantly gave
him a few kicks to the foot and when he looked at me I motioned
to my near empty drink with my eyes. He knew what was on my mind,
so it was up to him to decide what to do. Everyone more or less
finished their drinks and we continued the conversation for as
long as we could.
“Well, we’re going to the bar,” the hottie said,
“it was nice talking with you guys and hopefully we can
catch up later in the night.”
That was it. They disappeared into the crowd and eventually I
spotted them talking with some other dudes, laughing and drinking.
We were their warm-up and now they were about to be hooked by
these other guys. At last call, Nugget made an unsuccessful attempt
at some random fatty, and we all went our separate ways home.
I was pretty smashed and nearly passed out on the train. Luckily
a noise awakened me just before my stop and I got home.
At home, I pulled out my bottle of lube and popped in a porn DVD.
The cute-enough girl was alright, but she just wasn’t jerk-off
material. As the movie started, I began to pound my pud, imagining
myself with the porn slut on the screen. I was on chapter 5 of
the DVD I rented and enjoyed a nice little threesome scene with
a blonde, an Asian chick and some dude. The girls were getting
it on while the dude railed one of them from the rear. Somehow
my night didn’t turn out the way I had hoped, but I had
my 10 minute fantasy before splooging all over my stomach, taking
a quick shower and heading to bed. Tomorrow was another day and
I’d meet the guys for lunch to joke about our drunken night
of not getting laid.
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