How I ruined my best friend's birthday and other NYC stories

Apr

How I ruined my best friend’s birthday and other NYC stories

Filed Under (New York, travel) by on 28-04-2008

I didn’t want to write about this.

I wanted to write about my wild and crazy party weekend in New York City with my best friend Blue. I wanted to write about going to Shea to see the Mets and having a large drunk man fall on us in the stands. I wanted to write about beating Blue at Ping Pong for the first time in my life (bringing my career record against him to a blistering 1-73). I wanted to write about all the stupid jokes and funny stories that happen when you hang out with someone you’ve known for 26 years.

But then it happened.

Blue was taking me to a show. Not Broadway, as I had thought, but “off-off-off-off-Broadway”, according to him. He wouldn’t tell me what it was because he didn’t want me to go into it with any preconceived notions. So I didn’t know if we were attending a play featuring a naked Harry Potter or watching some bad street performance.

Turns out, it was a little of both.

The last time Blue and I went to dinner and a show was several years ago when we grabbed some pizza and attended “Taller Than a Dwarf” with Matthew Broderick and Parker Posey. The play was sort of interesting but not that memorable. The night, though, was.

During the play, my stomach started grumbling. So did Blue’s. As line after line was delivered and each act unfolded onto the next one, we began to realize that the $3 pizza slices might have been a bad idea.

When the lights came up, we bolted. For the bathrooms. We sat on those porcelain stalls like they were our lifelines, cursing the gods of baked dough and melted cheese and struggling to survive an embarrassing situation.

Eventually, a security guard came into the bathroom after the theater was empty and turned off the lights.

“We’re still in here!” I shouted.

“Hurry up!” he shouted back.

There was an awkward pause. Finally, I replied:

“We’re doing the best we can.”

Enough years have gone by that Blue and I can laugh about it now. This past Saturday’s incident, however, might take more time.

The mystery show turned out to be Fuerza Bruta, a surreal revolving stage performance featuring a lot of kinetic energy, wind, and water that looks like Circue d’ Soleil on LSD.

Blue and I had eaten at Arturo’s Pizza earlier, sharing the most incredible half-bacon, half-sausage pie (probably one of the best I have ever had). I finished a half-carafe of red wine on my own.

“Hmm,” Blue said, “pizza and a show in New York. Seem familiar?”

When we arrived at the Fuerza Bruta show, I was feeling a bit tipsy. We walked in and immediately I was wondering what the hell was going on. Everyone was forced to stand inside a circle in the center of a dark room. One guy took off his shirt. A bachelorette party came in with each drunk woman wearing a mask. I started to wonder if Blue had brought me to an orgy.

The show started with a man running on a treadmill above our heads. Strobe lights started to splinter the dark. Wind and water were sprayed everywhere. People started to jump, dance, and cheer. Everyone would move around in unison, pushing us around the “stage” into different formations.

I stared up and got dizzy. I lost my place. I lost myself. I looked for Blue and couldn’t find him.

And then my stomach started to hurt.

The ceiling above us became a see-through mylar swimming pool. Half naked women swam across it as we all watched and cheered.

I looked around for the emergency exits.

The swimming pool ceiling started to be lowered slowly. The wet women got closer and closer and soon they were claustrophobically on our heads. Everyone raised their hands to “touch” the swimming women.

I told Blue I had to get out of there.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the pizza. Maybe it was the Italian sausage and hot dog I had at Shea that afternoon. Maybe it was radically changing my diet after a week of observing Passover’s dietary restrictions. Maybe it was the heat in the Fuerza Bruta room. Maybe it was the strobe lights and the psychokinetic energy.

Maybe it was everything.

I buckled over and everything went dark. Blue pushed me to the red EXIT sign.

“Is he ok?” I could hear people ask.

I was catatonic. I couldn’t talk or walk. Blue somehow got me downstairs and to the bathroom. I sat on that toilet feeling like I was going to die. I sat there wishing I would die. This, I thought, is was being poisoned must feel like.

It took 30 minutes for me to open my eyes and stand up. The 70-minute show was still beating through the walls. I apologized to a sympathetic Blue and said, “Let’s catch the end of the show.”

We walked upstairs and entered the room. One minute later, the show ended.

Now, Blue says I didn’t ruin his birthday and that I shouldn’t feel bad for blowing the tickets he paid (discount price) for. But he did say that I shouldn’t sugar coat this story in my blog. That my best blogging is done not when I try to control my online image in a flattering way but when I’m honest to everyone about who I really am. Easy for him to say, he doesn’t have a blog.

So here’s my unflattering story, the one I didn’t want to write about, the one that doesn’t make me seem funny or witty or attractive to strangers. It’s very unflattering. Very honest.

And one more thing. On the way out of Fuerza Bruta, I heard a woman behind me sum up the show to her friend:

“This show would have been amazing if I was on psychodelic drugs.”

Really? I wanted to say to her, you should have had what I was on.

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Comments

Card carrying elitist on 28 April, 2008 at 9:51 am #

Should have just stayed on the bus and blogged. Here’s a tip about new york - the pizza is actually quite disgusting. Only the idiots from the midwest eat it, and they’re stomachs are hardened (like their arteries) from a steady diet of donuts and Shoney’s. Now that you know, two guys going to a off-broadway play for a birthday? That’s, well, not entirely straight.

GO DEVIL RAYS!

Don’t you mean “their”? Aren’t you an editor? Glass houses and all….

I-66 on 28 April, 2008 at 10:17 am #

Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been projectile vomit.

I-66’s last blog post..Me and you, your momma and your cousin too?

It was pretty close.

suicide_blond on 28 April, 2008 at 10:20 am #

somehow i feel like projectile vomit could have been worked into the show….just running out like a little girl..is harsh…sorry love…but…yeah..maybe….youre just a wee bit TOOOO straight for dinner and a show….blame testosterone…
xoxo

suicide_blond’s last blog post..confessions of a sex kitten?

That’s a good defense. Yeah, I have too much testosterone, that’s it.

Lisa on 28 April, 2008 at 10:37 am #

Yikes, sorry. That sounds like pure and utter misery.

Lisa’s last blog post..I am the last person to speculate on normal, but I do know you shouldn’t miss your turn

Everything since then, though, has been heaven.

The Maiden Metallurgist on 28 April, 2008 at 10:37 am #

I hate social events that feel like orgies. Makes me very uncomfortable. Maybe your reaction was to the show and not the bacon, sausage, hot dog and Italian sausage… maybe not. Don’t listen to the haters, straight dudes can go to a show, but wow, that looks like a really bad pick.

The Maiden Metallurgist’s last blog post..Drumroll Please…

I think I would have liked the show if it hadn’t been for the awful experience. I kind of enjoy orgy-like experiences that don’t leave me in the fetal position.

rs27 on 28 April, 2008 at 10:42 am #

This sounds like an Eyes Wide Shut play. Without the nudity and Tom Cruise.

rs27’s last blog post..In a Decayed Orbit 66 Thousand Miles An Hour Goes By

Tom Cruise was actually there holding my head and trying to convince me he was an alien.

Connie on 28 April, 2008 at 11:21 am #

There’s a T-shirt you can buy here in any touristy shop, with the logo of a local Egyptian beer - the motto: That which doesn’t kill you - makes you stronger.

You’re alive. Feel stronger?

Connie’s last blog post..Moms should get bravery badges

Not quite yet. Soon, hopefully.

Nickels on 28 April, 2008 at 11:32 am #

Honestly, it sounds like you actually lucked out… i mean, listening to baby stories yesterday about explosive grossness coming about of both ends AT THE SAME TIME gave me chills… you got lucky

Let’s see it happen to you and tell me you were lucky. Actually, let’s find out tomorrow night!

the princess on 28 April, 2008 at 11:40 am #

You forgot to mention that the show you saw was the same thing we’d seen on America’s Next Top Model!

You didn’t ruin his birthday, don’t worry. This is a story he can tell for the rest of his life…a regular night out you would have both forgotten pretty quickly.

I didn’t forget. I didn’t want to admit to having seen that episode. I mean, what episode?

freckledk on 28 April, 2008 at 11:46 am #

The Princess beat me to the ANTM reference! And I agree, this is another story to add to the many stories you’ve accumulated throughout your friendship.

freckledk’s last blog post..Crime and Punishment?

Blue said at one point this is the kind of story that is funny because it didn’t happen to him.

Sisco on 28 April, 2008 at 11:58 am #

I’m not gonna lie, just reading that made me feel nauseated.

And I definitely thought you were gonna blow chunks all over him. A bit anti-climactic, I must admit.

Sisco’s last blog post..Seafoam Ennui Jicama

It was close. Luckily for me (if there even IS a silver lining here) is that I didn’t.

Judy on 28 April, 2008 at 11:58 am #

Since, Passover didn’t end until last night methinks you got a heaping helping of hebrew whoop ass. Just saying.

Judy’s last blog post..Another Taser Death

Wow, I hadn’t thought of that. Adonai must have been pissed!

jess on 28 April, 2008 at 12:02 pm #

i can’t believe you still managed to text to anyone that evening. i’ve had the food poisoning, and i phoned my folks to give them my last words… i hope you feel 100% better! and look at the bright side: it’s bound to happen to blue on your birthday if cosmic 3s do rule the universe

You-know-who received a text message from me when I was at my most vulnerable. I didn’t want him to think I flaked.

kris on 28 April, 2008 at 12:21 pm #

Apparently you do work for number 2. Glad you’re feeling better.

kris’s last blog post..Kris: the other bright meat

I wish I could have thought of that while I begged for death. Might have cheered me up.

Not So Little Woman on 28 April, 2008 at 12:25 pm #

Oh well. At least you survived the event, Blue is not mad at you (and I’m sure liked the rest of the weekend) and you’ve learned a lesson: Never ever eat pizza and go to a show in NY again!

Not So Little Woman’s last blog post..Basil, the Celebrity

Blue has gotten mad at me three times in his life. One of them was for crossing the foul line in bowling.

Sean on 28 April, 2008 at 6:20 pm #

“Half naked women swam across it as we all watched and cheered. I looked around for the emergency exits.”

I never thought I would see these two sentences written consecutively.

Sean’s last blog post..The Good Wife’s Guide

front bummetry on 28 April, 2008 at 6:24 pm #

next time you go to new york, just bring an extra pair of tighty whities then shart during the crappy shows.

Shannon on 29 April, 2008 at 11:05 am #

Oh, man. I think the noise and naked people would have been enough to turn my stomach, I’m amazed you endured booze, greasy pizza, AND noise and naked people. Hats off, dude.

Shannon’s last blog post..I Knew I’d Never Be Cool: The Famous Bird Poop Story

My immune system has been tested many times.

Jonah K. Haslap on 29 April, 2008 at 11:36 am #

You’re an imposter. You can’t really be a Jew. A real Jew always carries Lactaid, Pepto-Bismal, and a MedicAlert bracelet. Admit it.

That’s true. I’m probably going to have my MOT card revoked.

B on 30 April, 2008 at 7:30 am #

I’ve gotta get the address to this place!

Sisco on 30 April, 2008 at 2:45 pm #

My friend had a customer at her restaurant once who was vomiting out of both ends if you know what I mean.

His wife had to go across the street and buy him clothes from Old Navy after the bus boy hosed him down in the back alley.

You could have been him. It can always be worse, mi hermano.

Sisco’s last blog post..Fuck Paxil