While The Veronicas and their special guests were playing The Viper Room in West Hollywood, I was playing with my special guests in Manhattan. Destination: Cougar Room.
Wanting to ensure celebrity status throughout the town and weekend, Sleepless and Ice Cream Man made “All Access Passes,” complete with Entertainment Weekly 2004 and 2005 Sundance Film Festival lanyards. In addition, they provided me with stickers to give my special guests, for placement on their lanyard, each time they did something wonderful for me/my birthday.
As we walked toward our first stop, File Not Found was quite impressed with the attention the lanyards we’re garnering. “I can’t believe how much attention these get,” he told me. “Lanyards and sunglasses,” I confirmed and added, “Isn’t that right, Sleepless?” “Yep, sunglasses are important. They make people think you’re a celebrity,” Sleepless replied. “Yep. With both of these items, people may not know who we are, but they’ll definitely think we’re somebody,” I replied.
Our first pub stop was successful with quick service and a round of shots, courtesy of the pub owner, Charlie. With wet pallets and full bellies we made our way downtown, via streets and the subway, to find other pubs.
Once on the subway, Drizzler decided it might be a good idea to have everyone sing to me. So, as the doors on the subway car shut, she – like so many others on subways – attempted to get the attention of passengers. “Attention lovely and fellow New Yorkers. Today is my friend’s birthday and we would love it if you would join us in wishing her a happy birthday.” She then started singing and some of the passengers, most likely those who saw the lanyards and thought we were somebody, sang along. When it came to, “Happy Birthday dear…..” Drizzler looked at me and quickly whispered, “Oops, I probably should have told them your name.” This earned her a sticker.
Ice Cream Man wasn’t a fan of the singing. He likes songs, specifically Ice Cream by Andre Nickatina, but he wouldn’t blare it from a boombox on the subway. When, however, one of the passengers asked if I had a date for the evening, offered me money to hang out with him, and then attempted to give me a gift, I’m pretty sure Ice Cream Man was wishing we were still singing.
The gift the passenger wanted to give me was a birthday kiss. After much encouraging from Drizzler, I obliged. As is often the case with Drizzler, she wanted to take a candid picture. As is also often the case, it wasn’t really candid because she took the picture too late. “Could you do that again, please?” she asked us both. The saying is true, the third time is the charm and by the third kiss from this extremely sweaty and friendly subway patron, Drizzler finally got the ‘candid’ shot she had been wanting.
Once we exited the train, Sleepless immediately handed me hand sanitizer. “You should rub this on your lips,” she advised. I did and, like the diseases you get when you don’t use sanitizer or protection, it burned. Fortunately, it was a good burn and Carl didn’t surface to join me for the remainder of the trip – that would have been so last year. This act definitely earned her a sticker.
As we were walking toward Bleecker Street, File Not Found decided to check the storm tracker application on his phone. His desire to do so was sparked by the grey clouds looming above us. “I’m not sure which direction is South, but the storm is heading that way, see,” he said while showing us the weather map. At that exact time, the rain started pouring down. “Guess we know where South is now,” Ice Cream Man quipped. While taking refuge under a nearby awning, I gave File Not Found a sticker for his meteorology skills and we decided to take our chances in the rain. We ran a short distance before I noticed a familiar pub, “This place is good. Let’s go here,” I suggested and we all rushed into the pub. “Nobody rains on your parade,” Sleepless stated and giggled.
While at the Peculiar Pub, we asked our server about other bars and pubs. “If you want something edgy, you have to leave the island,” she advised. Sleepless and I weren’t sure what she meant exactly, but we think it might have something to do with Jersey.
We had a few rounds and danced to a few songs – “It’s all my lungs can do,” Drizzler advised Sleepless when asked why we stopped dancing – and then made our way back out to the streets to find more adventures.
Near Times Square, we found one of our favorite Irish pubs and enjoyed some drinks, Irish music and another round of shots. “I hate Jager,” I told Sleepless after finishing the shot. “Then why did you do it?” she asked. “I only did it because it was a birthday present – just like that kiss on the subway,” I replied. “Speaking of shots,” Ice Cream Man piped in, “Never order an Irish Car Bomb at a pub in Ireland.”
Even though we weren’t in Ireland, we opted against ordering Irish Car Bombs and made our way to the best and final destination. Ice Cream Man had been wanting to go there all night however, knowing last is often best, he only baited us with it until now.
We arrived at the lounge and were just about to sit down when a large man approached Ice Cream Man. We (Sleepless, Drizzler, File Not Found and I) thought for sure we were being kicked out. Especially when he advised us, “Grab your bags, let’s go.”
Fortunately, we were wrong and the opposite was true. With the help of our All Access Pass (and, more likely, a little bit of cash from Ice Cream Man), we were upgraded to the rooftop lounge of the Dream Hotel and had the privilege of enjoying one of the swankiest bars in Midtown Manhattan. While I was giving Ice Cream Man a sticker for his top of the line lounge work, File Not Found returned from the loo. “I just got a burst of energy. Must be the Dyson dryers,” File Not Found told us. He was quite impressed with the dryers and continued to recommend them to all of us throughout the night.
After several hours of raising our glasses and the non-existent roof, we got a cab ride from New York’s fastest and sexiest driver – Monika from Poland, and returned to the hotel in hopes that several hours in our beds would be like a few minutes with the Dyson dryer. Although I never cougared, with the help of my friends, my birthday was a roaring success.