a brilliant night
2003-10-12 10:50 p.m.

alright you assmonkeys, i'm writing.

i'm very tired so i will make this brief. Friday, i went to my very first pub. J patricks, located in baltimore. i ordered fish and chips, and they were good, even though i don't like fish. the "chips" as they are called were average.

i ordered no beer- BLARG i dislike beer. i did order an irish coffee because j patricks is famed for their irish coffee. apparently, irish coffee is a mixture of about half strong as shit coffee and half whiskey. and then half bailey's. it was insanity and i couldnt even drink it. those irish.

my friend sheila from class, who i went with, used to work in a hotel and knows tons of international people. it's quite odd. but while we were at the pub i saw a man eating a canoli and i said, "my italianess is aching for a good italian pastry" and she whipped out her cell phone and said, "you want canoli? i'll get you some."

Then a drunk man at the bar turned around and started yelling at her for talking on her phone in the pub. it was funny but he was REALLY scary, so we went outside while she called her husband.

YES, husband. sheila is 28. her husband works right across the street from vaccarro's, bought me some canoli, and then had some friends of shelia's who were getting off work at the hotel come pick it up and bring it to us.

these friends were a Czech man named Giri in his mid thirties and a very very sexy 23 year old irish guy named Dennis. Very. They brought me canoli and i was very touched- too seldom are pastries delivered to me by handsome men with accents.

we all hung out at j patricks, drinking ( i was with my water) and listening to the irish music (no accordian player- he plays on thursdays), and when things started winding down at 1 am or so, it was suggested that we go to the James Joyce, which is strictly a bar. I was assured that i could get in.

unfortunately, they were carding at the door, and i couldn't get in. I eyed the bouncer and tried my best, but he was a bastard. Just then, a man came out of the bar and hugged sheila. THhey exchanged "how have you been!" and "i haven't seen you in forever." This man was in his 40's, had an accent (like everyone else she knows) and was wearing a suit. I was, at this time, quite terrified. She explained that she and i couldn't get into the bar because i was underage. He talked to the bouncer for us, saying that we were pretty and wouldn't cause any harm, but the bouncer was still a bastard.

the man in the suit, whose name was Morrie or Murray or Mory, took a liking to me. "you have curly hair," he said.

"yeah, i know." Another man came out of the bar, bigger than Mory, also wearing a suit.

"This man is gay," said Mory. "in case you wanted to know."

"oh...okay."

The bigger man came out and hugged sheila. "Mory told my friend you were gay," sheila said.

"Mory...please do not tell pretty girls that I am gay."

"I am sorry," Mory said. "I knew you would see her eyes and her hair and i would lose my chance."

It is worth noting that at this point i was still terrified.

The bigger man introduced himself as Philippo. We explained our predicament. "Mory," Philippo said, "why don't you open your restaurant for them?"

"Excellent idea," Mory said. "We all meet in the parking lot."

"Come on," Sheila said. "Back to the car." we went back into her pickup truck and drove a few blocks to an italian restaurant. On the way I asked many, many, MANY questions. Mory is Syrian, married to a woman 20 years younger who wears a headcovering, and the father of 2 children. He also owns a 4 star restaurant in little italy. Phillipo is a ladies man, American born but speaks German and Italian. Dennis is still sexy.

A sign outside the restaurant said "20 years: 1983 to 2003." Phillipo said, "can you believe it? 1983 seems like yesterday." I didn't mention that I was born in 1984. We go in the restaurant, Mory turns the alarm off and the lights on. Philippo asks me what i want to drink. Water.

We talk for a while. Dennis, Giri, Sheila, Mory, Phillipo, and I. Philippo falls asleep and starts snoring. Dennis asks me to find him someone at my university, a nice "bird."

"Preferably with blonde hair. Oooh and when they have things written on their bum? Lovely. Dyknow any blonde birds?"

"Not any smart single ones."

"Then any not so smart ones?"

"Plenty."

"Brilliant."

Mory drinks more of his "water," a combination of water and vodka. Asks personal questions. Is shocked to learn that I am 19. But not shocked enough to stop hitting on me. Asks me if I know who Napolean was. Asks me what I think of George Bush, of cloning. What I would do if had one week to live. Then as Sheila and I are getting ready to leave at 2:45, asks me, and i swear i am not making this up: "If you could get rid of all the men in the world except me, would you? Yes or no, no thinking."

And I say, with all the skills of a seasoned improv actor, "um ask sheila."

In the car home, she tells me he married his wife when she was 14.

Phillipo may have been the ladies man, but i liked him better. Next week we will go on thursday nights, i make everyone promise. to see the accordian player. someone my age, who hopefully won't mind a brunette. In the meantime, I have 2 canolis in my fridge and a shirt that smells like an irish pub.