Upper East Side Rendezvous

This past Saturday, Jennifer and I finally got around to going to a dinner at this bar/restaurant called “The Mustang.” Jennifer was eyeing the place ever since she moved uptown. The best way to describe “The Mustang”  would be a blend of Mexican food, all-American sports bar, and obnoxiously loud techno music.

After being seated, I went through the usual routine of getting a blank stare of confusion from the server for ordering “just water” right after making her list all of the beers available and not hearing the so familiar three letter acronym. Well, this time I decided not to settle for “just water” and another sub-par story. In fact, this time I decided to take matters into my own hands and stop being a victim of the poor beverage purchasing by the restaurant’s management.

Due to the number of the favorable circumstances such as “The Mustang’s” close proximity to Jennifer’s studio on Upper East Side and a lone untouched can of Pabst in Jennifer’s fridge, an opportunity had presented itself. After ordering some nachos, I excused myself so I could run up 6 flights of stairs to find a lone Pabst sitting in the fridge right behind a plastic container with pasta. I knew I did not have much time, since I did not want to keep Jennifer all by herself at the table, so chugging was my only option. But how to execute the chugging presented another challenge.

There was of course the beginner “open up a can and chug the beer”  method. Following it, was a more sophisticated “punch a hole with a key and crack open the can” method I grew so accustomed to while living at Lambda. And then, there was the most recent chugging trick I learned at Justin and Candace’s wedding this past summer, which involved thumb punching a hole through the side of the beer can and chugging its content. After some deliberation, I decided to go with the most recently learned technique (on the side note, to those present at the Roses’ wedding, I did thumb punched through the can on the first try).

Prep

Success

Chug

Empty

12 ounces later, I ran down the stairs to re-join Jennifer for some nachos, Yankee playoff game on TV, and some loud “bubble gum” techno music.

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