oh the irony - after two drama-less weekends with dramatic finishes, i pour in the action this weekend, only to look into the work week with possibly a full night's sleep, and no tasks to complete on monday.
at least nothing related to my job. i do have that
hair appt. at 1.
a couple sundays ago, i hailed cabs and hopped on trains headed uptown, downtown - met friends, drank beverages, and enjoyed an unexpected galavant throughout most of new york city. i spent the night/early morning writing the ralphie report from the second floor of mcdonald's in times square and sending it out from
the starbucks inside penn station - a walk from times square to madison square garden sandwiched in between the events.
last week i drove from lake geo... err...
bolton landing, ny to wilkes-barre, with a pitstop turned day long jaunt in syracuse. visited family,
former coworkers, and friends on the
su hill. i also devoured my first chocolate milkshake of the season, ordered and later enjoyed some real chicken wings from my favorite college bar, and drowned myself in caffeine.
and today? attended church, cooked homemade sauce/pasta, cleaned my apartment, and watched my yankees
lose in boston.
if only the weekend mirrored the previous two. and it almost did - until last night just after 1a.
kev the rev and i held down the woods on friday. the next night, i found myself inside colosseum night club. the fact that in a weekend i am paid to host parties in both of the aforementioned venues still reminds me to be thankful for my occupation.
anywho - saturday night could not have gone better - until. it's 1a, and i head to the bar to grab drinks for friends. on my way back, i fell victim to a lack of traction on my chuck taylor's and a slippery dance floor. i took a spill in the middle of
denny tsettos's set, saving the drinks in the process.
this is where my night hits the apex and begins to end.
as i regain posture, i feel a tug to my right. suddenly - a flash and an unfamiliar burst of pressure flushes my face.
a girl i accidently ran in to decided that i deserved a knuckle sandwich for my innocent tumble. she landed a roundhouse square on my cheek bone.
thankfully, rob dale of colosseum night club witnessed the entire course of events. before i could even think of responding, the overzealous dancer found her night finished, on outside looking in from adams. big big thank you to the security staff at colosseum - true professionals - and i'd expect nothing less from that place. have you been? not only does everyone RAVE about it - but i have yet to hear a complaint.
i think nothing of it, a mix of a beer and adrenline preventing any feeling from entering my body. let's not forget, i still had drinks to distribute.
after handing out the last beer, tony from the street team informs me that all is not over. apparently, i'm gushing blood from my cheek.
a half roll of paper towels and 20 minutes later, the blood ceases and i move about my way, to my car, and back to wilkes barre.
after all, i had a busy sunday to prepare for.
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