Thursday, March 03, 2005
Sitting In An Empty Bar
There's something oddly comforting about a completely empty bar at four in the morning. Maybe it was the calm that comes as Saturday night becomes early Sunday morning. That night was one of those rare moments when I actually liked this place. It could have been the lighting in the place, since the soft green light from the neon McSorley's sign hanging behind me definetly added to the relaxed mood in the darkened bar.
I sat knees-drawn on the wooden table of the last booth and Heather occupied the table beside mine, both of us staring blankly at the ceiling. Marina sat on a stool in front of us signing along to Concrete Blond while Joe went about cleaning up the bar. It had been a long night for everyone.
Marina had drank one two many shots of vodka and she was a nervous wreck over her date the following night. Joe had also had too many Bud Lights and become a moody bartender, rushing the customers out once 3 A.M. had come around. Heather had been having an in-depth, almost heated conversation with Will for most of the evening. Cindy and Tommy had just left 10 minutes earlier in a cab. Poor Tommy had been stranded out here in Fresh Meadows, but Cindy had been kind enough to have her cab drop him off at home. The birthday money that Marina had given her sure came in handy. Things always have a way of working out.
I took a drag off my cigarette, glanced at the clock over the register that read 3:53 AM and reflected on the past three days. Although it wasn't without it's little bumps here and there, Cindy's birthweek had gone relatively well.
Thursday had gone well for the most part, despite the fact that it had started to snow. The place was great as we had expected: the hookah smooth, the drinks were strong, and the music was perfect. However nothing ever goes perfectly, and unfortunetly Armando and alcohol hadn't mixed well that night.
I looked over at Marina, who was sitting with a huge smile, swinging her head side to side in a 1980s kind of way. I chuckled and then silently wondered why all people couldn't be affected by alcohol the same way. Armando wants to kill anyone and everyone when he drinks. Others just had a good ol' time. It no longer saddened me the way it had on his birthday. Thursday night it had actually enraged me to see someone care so little about someone else's special day.
Friday night had been loads of fun. In fact, it had been one of the most entertaining nights we had in a very long time. We were Armando-less, and apparently, Fernando and Nadine were no longer together because he had smoked from the hookah the night before. I didn't quite understand, but since it seemed so trivial to me, I shrugged it off as such.
We had chosen this place in Astoria because they were going to let Jackie and Eddie in. Once we got to the door and stepped past the velvet curtains though my heart sank, because I heard the latin music booming inside and I immediately looked at Cindy and asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else. If she was upset she did a great job of not letting it show.
We all ended up having a great time though. We made friends with the bartender, and Cindy amazingly actually feel for a spanish girl. We gave Fernando a temporary "P.A." card and let him loose along with Tommy in the nightclub. I didn't dance much myself until the very end of the night.
The music on the jukebox ended and Heather stood up and started putting her coat on. We all got ready and stepped out into the cold night for the long trip home. Heather drove me to Jamaica station and once on the train, I sat behind this group of drunk people. They looked like the type of people that typically come to Last Call. They were just as annoying.
I could still taste the Sambuca from earlier that night. Sal, Tommy, and I had come to accompany Cindy at Last Call since Marina had bought her a birthday cake. She really outdid herself with the cake. It was the creamiest, most chocolatey, ice cream taste I had every indulged in. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, but this was Cold Stone cake, so I had to make an exception.
I wondered were the next few nights would lead us. Sal's birthday was coming up, and little did I know we'd end up at a strip club on Tuesday night. The night would turn out to be a pretty good one, ending with Sal gettin drunker than I had ever seen him, with me driving Cindy home and Sal crashing at my place.
I arrived at Lynbrook station around 4:30 and caught a cab home. The driver was much too friendly and I had little patience to talk to anyone so I probably came off as an asshole. Oh well, I was sleepy. I spent about $9 total to get home and once again, I cringed at the fact that Cindy had spent over $40 to get Tommy and herself home. I suppose living in Long Island does have it's perks after all.
Overall, it had been a good week, and I went to bed looking forward to another good week.
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I sat knees-drawn on the wooden table of the last booth and Heather occupied the table beside mine, both of us staring blankly at the ceiling. Marina sat on a stool in front of us signing along to Concrete Blond while Joe went about cleaning up the bar. It had been a long night for everyone.
Marina had drank one two many shots of vodka and she was a nervous wreck over her date the following night. Joe had also had too many Bud Lights and become a moody bartender, rushing the customers out once 3 A.M. had come around. Heather had been having an in-depth, almost heated conversation with Will for most of the evening. Cindy and Tommy had just left 10 minutes earlier in a cab. Poor Tommy had been stranded out here in Fresh Meadows, but Cindy had been kind enough to have her cab drop him off at home. The birthday money that Marina had given her sure came in handy. Things always have a way of working out.
I took a drag off my cigarette, glanced at the clock over the register that read 3:53 AM and reflected on the past three days. Although it wasn't without it's little bumps here and there, Cindy's birthweek had gone relatively well.
Thursday had gone well for the most part, despite the fact that it had started to snow. The place was great as we had expected: the hookah smooth, the drinks were strong, and the music was perfect. However nothing ever goes perfectly, and unfortunetly Armando and alcohol hadn't mixed well that night.
I looked over at Marina, who was sitting with a huge smile, swinging her head side to side in a 1980s kind of way. I chuckled and then silently wondered why all people couldn't be affected by alcohol the same way. Armando wants to kill anyone and everyone when he drinks. Others just had a good ol' time. It no longer saddened me the way it had on his birthday. Thursday night it had actually enraged me to see someone care so little about someone else's special day.
Friday night had been loads of fun. In fact, it had been one of the most entertaining nights we had in a very long time. We were Armando-less, and apparently, Fernando and Nadine were no longer together because he had smoked from the hookah the night before. I didn't quite understand, but since it seemed so trivial to me, I shrugged it off as such.
We had chosen this place in Astoria because they were going to let Jackie and Eddie in. Once we got to the door and stepped past the velvet curtains though my heart sank, because I heard the latin music booming inside and I immediately looked at Cindy and asked her if she wanted to go somewhere else. If she was upset she did a great job of not letting it show.
We all ended up having a great time though. We made friends with the bartender, and Cindy amazingly actually feel for a spanish girl. We gave Fernando a temporary "P.A." card and let him loose along with Tommy in the nightclub. I didn't dance much myself until the very end of the night.
The music on the jukebox ended and Heather stood up and started putting her coat on. We all got ready and stepped out into the cold night for the long trip home. Heather drove me to Jamaica station and once on the train, I sat behind this group of drunk people. They looked like the type of people that typically come to Last Call. They were just as annoying.
I could still taste the Sambuca from earlier that night. Sal, Tommy, and I had come to accompany Cindy at Last Call since Marina had bought her a birthday cake. She really outdid herself with the cake. It was the creamiest, most chocolatey, ice cream taste I had every indulged in. I don't have much of a sweet tooth, but this was Cold Stone cake, so I had to make an exception.
I wondered were the next few nights would lead us. Sal's birthday was coming up, and little did I know we'd end up at a strip club on Tuesday night. The night would turn out to be a pretty good one, ending with Sal gettin drunker than I had ever seen him, with me driving Cindy home and Sal crashing at my place.
I arrived at Lynbrook station around 4:30 and caught a cab home. The driver was much too friendly and I had little patience to talk to anyone so I probably came off as an asshole. Oh well, I was sleepy. I spent about $9 total to get home and once again, I cringed at the fact that Cindy had spent over $40 to get Tommy and herself home. I suppose living in Long Island does have it's perks after all.
Overall, it had been a good week, and I went to bed looking forward to another good week.
Sitting In An Empty Bar posted @ 4:09 PM :: 
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