SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS, SHOTS!

So, it was The Rub again and also The Master of Shotz birthday. What could go wrong?

I was supposed to meet some people and bring them in with me but they cancelled because they are lame and I scooped up a pal from the line and did my usual entry. I had about $50 on me with $30 of that automatically going to pay back a friend so my game plan was A DRINK and just chilling with friends. Maybe 2 drinks if my DJ pals weren't hitting up the beer backstage. I was DEFINITELY NOT doing shots of Jameson like I knew had a high potential of going down. Especially since Darth Fader would also be there.

I accomplished one of these goals.

I'll probably have my wedding, kids' baptisms and wake  DJed by these guys.

This was still the game plan when I ran into my friend D at the other bar. He had a night out to just chill and he's good to be around because we keep the mood relax while somewhat sober. After a certain level, well...

So, he offers to buy me a drink and I turn him down. Initially. Twenty minutes pass and I figure what the hell? I'll get one vodka cranberry and be good. D says "I got you" and makes sure that the bartender gives me Stoli.

"I don't pay for any random liquor." Which is smart because you don't want to drink antifreeze.*

Drink Uno- drank.

Normally, at this point I go back to the larger room where my pals are DJing but the guy they had  was KILLIN' IT!

More of my friends arrive. I get more drinks. I avoid shots. I was marginally successful for the night.

Fast forward to about 3 AM. I've haven't hit on any women and I don't care.** I have danced with two or four of my female friends awkwardly and that means it's closing time for this guy.

I trek to the train and pass out from exhaustion. I wake up going towards Coney Island which is weird since I got on the train going back to Queens. What I think happened is that I slept so long the train had begun to make the return trip. I got up, got on another train, got off, caught my bus and almost got in a fight with this dude for nodding off too close to him which was totally my fault but he could have been calmer.

It is now almost 8 or 9 AM.

There is another round of drinking at 7 PM and I told someone I would go with them to watch fireworks at 10/11 PM. Joy.

I awake at 2:30 PM and I do not want to leave the bed. Check that- I was WOKEN up at 2:30 by fireworks friend girl to see if we were going to hang later. I remind her of my other party and take a shower.

I get to the event and NOBODY gets there for an hour. I should know better at this point with my people but the hot dog, beer and view make up for it.

They missed out.

My friends eventually arrive. I plan to leave at 9 to meet my other friend but she lames out on me for the second night in a row so I plan now to leave at 9:30.

Riiiigggghhhhttt......

Three (or four) Brooklyn Ales later and it's 11:00 PM. I've pulled a me but it was a good time so I'm not upset and I'm a grownup so I could have left whenever.

Great but exhausting weekend with friends.

I don't want to do it again for awhile. I'm getting tired.


*Although a lot of bars just give you that shite anyway and keep it in fancy bottles. You can tell if you are a dru- an aficionado like myself. 
**This has been a recent development in this past year or so and I think I'm finally cool with that. I don't have to live the life for my friends to live vicariously through me all the time.

New Age of Sobriety

Watch the whole thing but what's important is the content and my cameo beginning at 2:57 to the end.

I don't think I was "the drinkingest nigga" but I was definitely close.

Anyway, this video was made years ago but my hedonistic approach to booze has been at Bender Bending Rodriguez levels, even up until last year. It wasn't consistent get crunked up ever weekend but my tolerance level would allow me to drink giants under the table. I was a bit of a Viking.

I've gotten better as I've gotten older (AKA my body doesn't allow for as quick of a recovery anymore). I paced myself and don't accept every challenge involving liquor. And now I'm back to no booze at all.

My pal asked me why I don't imbibe with moderation but me and moderation in anything can, at most times, be a laughable concept. Whether it's liks, reading, love, I'm usually all in. Luckily, I'm not a gambler or Vegas could have been MUCH wacker for me.

So, I've been off the Jesus Juice since February 3rd. It was supposed to just start on the last weekend of January but a friend had a birthday party and she wanted sangria so I helped her kill it. But, yeah, it's been about a month.

Very hard.

I went to a house party with lots of cake and many assorted types of booze. Of course, my friends are mostly in the kitchen next to the alcohol table so I'm being tempted for a few hours. My friend Darth Fader shows up. He is also going the sober route for awhile. This is good but also precipitously close to becoming dangerous. We are both the type to slip if we have an accomplice to slip with. Luckily, we have good supporters and his growing addictions to energy drinks allow for a sugar high, which is not as good as a buzz but helps.

After this we went to my favorite place- The Rub. This is dangerous because I know that there is copious amounts of free beer in the back room and my pals know the bartenders so booze can be gotten at a discount or free if my pals are in a generous mood. Again, rolling with Fader helps because we are leaning on each other. But eventually he leaves and The Master of Shotz arrives. Oh, boy...

It's the same in any language.

Okay, I ended up actually maintaining my sobriety still. This was probably due to hanging out in the back a lot, The Master showing up pretty late and just pounding water. It was dicey at points. There were a lot of average ladies, particularly a group in "Mom Jeans" that Drunk Sean would have hollered at. I was weighing just getting a few shots of Black Label and going in but a)I could do better b)it wouldn't have made me feel better and c)I could REALLY do better. So, sobriety maintained.

Let's see if I can keep it up for this month. Hopefully, my insane amount of work I want to accomplish will help but another Rub is coming and Fader's birthday is next week. I gotta keep it together.

Decade Long Chapter Closed

This past Saturday was the final The Rub at Southpaw and I'm sad to see the party end at this venue.

Let me rewind it back a bit. Southpaw is a venue in Park Slope that I would only know about for probably two major reasons. The first reason is my boy Darth Fader lives down the street from it. (Yes, still; he moves like a block every year or so, like a fast glacier)

Okay, before I get to the second reason I have to tell you something. I'm going to shock some of you by telling you these facts but it had to come out sooner than later- I'm old and lame. I generally don't know about the "hip" venues and if I do, it's most likely because one of my friends took me there before. I'm just not that cool; I just know cool ass people.
This brings me to the second reason I know about Southpaw at all. I went to a small liberal arts college in upstate New York that Darth Fader fondly used to call "Ass-ar." You can probably figure out what it really was called. Great academic institution that I didn't always utilize fully knowledge-wise. What I did invest a lot of my time in was the random campus parties and dancing in the basement bar of the main building called The Mug. That place and the ratio of women to men were two strong selling points for me to attend this bastion of higher education. ("That and the fine professors and the vicinity to your family back in NYC, right Sean?" Suuurrreee)
This place gave me access to underage boozing, sweaty grinding and introduced me to a DJ by the name of Ayres.

Ayres was a cool blonde guy from down south who had impeccable taste in music- both old R&B and hip-hop. A few years ahead of me, I made sure that when Ayres started spinning in the city I would attend his parties. This is the other reason I knew about Southpaw and, ultimately, The Rub. Like I said I know COOL folks....folks.

So, me, Darth Fader and a few other like minded (read: drunk) individuals would attend these early Brooklyn fiestas and enjoy all the fine tunes.

We would grow to know everyone that worked there, particularly since these were the days before lines around the corner, three-people deep. It started with Ayres and then we met Eleven and Cosmo Baker, both extraordinary DJs and just good people. (Big shouts to the tall homie Eleven for helping me drink in Vegas and San Fran when we were there at the same time) Then came Rahnon, the lovely lady at the door; my boy Matt, always working the wristbands and cash; my cousin Jah for keeping things rocking there for The Rub and other SP events; Kenan, who was my favorite bartender there and, finally, all the security dudes. This family of folks made sure that things went smoothly, everyone danced and allowed me to put my ass-groove in to the top of the speaker padding near the front left-side of the stage. (I forget what that section is called in stage speech- stage front left?)

I had many a good, drunken night there- from the early days of pre-gaming with Fader with a bottle of wine each, sloppy b-boy battlin', meeting random women, Halloween shenanigans, rollin' 10 deep, watching Red Bull DJ battles, giving pounds to random rappers I used to listen to when I was younger ("GREG NICE AND PHAROAHE, I SEE YOU!"), seeing downstairs become its own separate world and enjoying the behind the stage action, particularly after closing time.

The Rub is moving down the road to The Bell House and I'm happy for my brothers on the wheels of steels and everyone coming along with them. After a decade, the same success is assured in any venue. I only hope and I'm confident that they'll duplicate the fun, party vibe that they had pumpin' at Southpaw. Kudos again for all the years and half-remembered nights.
I salute you.

Good times with good friends as always at The Rub.

The Rub- October 2010

Shenanigans. Let's play a game. It's called Where's Drunk Arse Sean?
Find him....
Here's some hints-
dsc_0192 pic 1 page 5
DSC_0151 pic 7 page 5
The Rub on pic 6 page 8