Kendall, Grendel's and Bars, Oh My
Last night, after a long a stressful three-day work week at PCP which felt like much more than that, myself, Cramer,Kinsey and AG from work hit up Grendel’s in Harvard Square on a mission to find me a Kennedy School of Government man. It was raining, of course, which I have to say has totally ruined my entire week. Tuesday, after having been stuck outside in the Tsunami on my lunch break with Kinsey, I had to spend $39.57 on an entire new outfit at the Gap to wear back to the office. Kinsey and I went to Starbucks and asked for garbage bags which prompted the manager to ask "why?" which prompted us to say "it’s flipping pouring out mister, give us the flipping bags." So we were trash on the way back to work. Actual, foolish, pitiful walking trash bags like those people I usually make fun of.Regardless, upon arriving to Grendel’s we spotted Black Sweater Boy, who was hot in a Josh-Hartnett-sort-of-way, sitting at the bar with four other Harvard men. Myself, AG and Cramer downed vodka sodas and daquiri’s, respectively, and left without getting BSB’s number. We then all headed to Cambridge 1, a great restaurant where we downed three bottles of wine along with dinner while I shamelessly fell in love with the Manager, Pink Shirt Man whose sexual orientation is still under question.
After seeing the indie filmHeights (not good) still drunk where I slipped on a puddle (damn the rain) at the bottom of the stairs in front of God and everyone at the theatre in a typical Classy Girl way that has sealed my fate as a single spaz spinster forever, we walked to the B-side bar, AG’s local suggestion. We then had to walk in the rain (damn the rain again) which was causing me some problems in my open-backed heels, so I had to take off my shoes and ended up running down the sidewalks and streets of Kendall Square barefoot as Kinsey and Cramer laughed at me in order to get to the T before the last train. Cramer and I made it to Our House (aka scene of the crime) for one last drink before last call and then made it back to 24 Symph in, thankfully, one piece.
Tonight is Helene’s birthday gathering at our old haunt the 21st Amendment for drinks, which should be a good time. Diva Girl, Sweet Girl and sister will be in attendance.
So, the moral of the story is: I hate the rain, Indie movies are really starting to stink, never wear slip on heels in the rain, and Black Sweater Boy: I love you, wherever you are.
posted by Victoria Comella @ 1:38 PM
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