It suddenly dawned on my friend that we had not hung out together in a while. My sister apparently had the same thought because I received two calls almost simultaneously. So we decided to get together and hang out Friday. Now there are a very specific group of people that have drifted towards each-other, sort of like the Goonies. There is my sis and her significant other, my cuz (also my heterosexual life partner), my BGF, my other GF who joins us when extra boys might come in the picture, my crush (who lost 50 lbs and therefore is not breaking only my heart anymore), another GF (by proxy since she gave up her metalar/albo cub dreams and shacked up with a nice Jewish Boy in Boston), my other cuz (who is just an 18 year old FOB with big brown eyes). Time after time we get drifters, like boyfriends du jour (my ex-puddle eye devil, BGF commitment-phobic j-e-r-k, and other GF stubbed thumb head one), brothers (chuck norris-look alike, and the one who still can not decide whether he is coming out or going in the closet), temporary friends (the one with the MIP III phone tune and a confusing Goombah complex, as well as the couple with the husband with extendable limbs), etc. you can see why we have no need for hired entertainment.
So we decided to hang out. Four of us started out in Manhattan but an Astoria wind was blowing, so we gave in and jumped on the W train, straight to the BZ grill on 27th ave (or maybe st. i can never remember) and Astoria Blvd. Hunger and huge Yummy Gyro Platters go very well in this little treasure, where mostly Albo Men hang out. Of course, we only go there for the food. The legend goes that one owner is Greek, one Albanian. However I salute both in Albanian and they both answer back so I never bother to tell who’s who. Besides, that delicious gyro smell, mayo/mustard sauce and hot feta cheese always cloud my judgment.
We of course eat like animals, drowning every possible noise around us and confusing the ever-suffering waitress. In between chewings, we talk of everything under the sun, bitchy coworkers, periods, OB/GYN visits (my gf is a nurse attendant at that clinic), shoes, politics, Albanian politics, hair color, relativity theory, dirty jokes and much much more, obliging the only man in attendance (my sis’ significant other) to go out for a smoke every five minutes. Eventually my crush shows up and the testosterone becomes a little more prominent. We are also all pigged out, so we pile up in cars and we leave in search of good wine.
We find it inside the Grand Cafe, another Astoria Place to see and be seen, where youth of all colors and denominations clamor to get in. The chocolate deserts are also very good. The bathrooms too, although it took me a while to figure out the faucets and the light switches. Boy, what fun.
There is like three hundred thousand faces inside the cafe that time after time spew out a pixie waitress, a very short beavery owner, a humongous Slavic DJ, a obviously crushed cutie with his panxhar faced date, a hot mama in a very short strapless dress and white boobies that makes me pat my defied ones in condolence, and every other single girl green with envy, and a sizzling tall glass of water in a brown leather jacket and a tight tush. Yummy.
Anyway, after the Crush repeated his plans to go away on vacation with the tribe, we started discussing that. Our discussions go normally like this:
-Well, nobody told me it was for Memorial day! I already asked for Independence week off.
-C’m on, it is just an extra Monday! I am missing the hot tub already.
-You’re still thinking about the same house?
-Well duh! That Jacuzzi was to die for.
-Yeah but there is no pool there, only little lakes. I get more wet if you spit on me.
-You are such an idiot. Besides, your hairs alone will soak all the water.
-Well, we can go to the outlets. My friend made a killing last time.
-I want to go shooting again. Or maybe paint balling.
-We can do that in Jersey. How about we check for Jersey Shore?
-We can go for Labor Day. We’ll still be off amon-amon.
-I want to go to Vegas, too. I’m gonna have to nok somebody to get money for all of it.
-Yeah right, that’ll be the day. You can not even accept a free dinner.
-Look who’s talking, Miss I-only-go-out-for-coffee dates.
-Well, I do go out only for coffee d…
-Guys, focus please. The man is talking.
-Can I get another bottle of the same wine please? Yeah, another one. Thanks.
-Stop giving me your glass, you are not supposed to drink.
-Nona vet, who’s making like mom now? Remember yourself at 18?
-Shut up man. You are the one who got me drunk in the first place.
-Guys, guys, are we going to the damn place or not?
And therein lies the question. We are all talked out, so we sip the wine in silence. My Crush’s eyes are completely closed. The rest is feeling pretty drained as well. Boy, we are getting old. We pay and then we are pack out in two cars, one a dirty jeep with broken heating, and the other a minivan with a baby carriage. The boys and sis kiss goodnight and drive home. We start for home too, until we see this good looking pastry shop that is open all night and we park again. Yummy Tullumba at three after midnight. Suddenly, I am not tired anymore.