Ah, my favorite night…the Princeton Pub Crawl ! A unusually warm, balmy night on hand, it seemed to bring out the most of the TDDoC family tree – a dysfunctional family at best, but we get along. – With Mrs. Yo coming out for her annual point (and my hopeful ride home), we immediate are confronted with the theme of this year’s Pub Crawl, “Massive Pub Crawl Confusion (hereby known as “MPCC”) – Triggering the MPCC was the unexpected closing down of the Princeton Sports Bar (aka the Annex), due, according to Reese’s unnamed church rumor network, to Massive Underage Drinking (MUD) and one underage klutz that fell down the stairwell, drink in hand, only to be tossed back up the stairwell on his head by the bouncer, leaving him no option other than to sue the place for $30M, shutter its doors, hence tossing the entire TDDoC into scheduling mayhem! This conflict was correctly forecasted by your’s truly during early Pton pub scouting report, however, no corrective action report (CAR) was initiated in time to resolve, other than Thursday’s night’s secret committee meeting at Killarney’s, which took place in parallel with flirting with the Jim Bean shot girls, hence the reason (and a legitimate one!) for the in-flight confusion. For the first time in TDDoC history, we are faced with not one, but TWO starting gates – JB Winberries or upscale Mediterra wine bar– a no-doubt about it, deliberate attempt to separate the snooty, affluent wine-lovers among us, from the grizzly TDDoC beer guzzlers, which is exactly why Mertz (according to rumor), was the only one at Winberries, with Cory wingman, saying “WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY” ?? Wine over hops this year, brothers.
At Mediterra, wonderful conversation flowed along the elegant high-top tables, from the likes of Benny and Gman, discussing the flavor of next year’s Charm’s Blow-pop, to the all-female cycling committee, discussing how much salad, wine and water to consume prior to next year’s Charity rides. POD’s arrives with his Daytona jacket on, somehow sneaking in a few loaf’s from the bread-carving station at the entrance. A surprise appearance by Patty Noonan, who was no doubt forming a TDDoC all-Irish subcommittee as a back-up plan in case too many depart for Denver. Lisa Eman and Rita gladly offer up their Bread and Salad left-over’s to Mr. and Mrs. Yo, allowing us to donate that unspent money to the Christmas carolers that we ran into on the way out. Yes, we were “Caroled” to by a posse of teens from the Princeton High Choir (or at least that was their cover-up story), which REALLY brought on the cheer (and salad donations) as we crossed over busy Palmer Square to a crowded Yankee Doodle Room, once again occupied first by the local Outer Circle Ski Club (OCSC), which seemed to have reduced their membership by 50% due in no short order to last year’s over-crowding debacle with us, resulting in the heavy-manned TDDoC crew out-muscling the skinny OCSC membership away from any lingering bar-stools with a large offensive front, spearheaded by Mertz, Goettle and SKA. Great work dudes, we can count on some breathing room at this stop moving forward! Once again, the SAME bar tenders are there, who have remained employed as under-paid bar-tenders/waiter/waitress/table & puke cleaners at least since Pods was tossed out there in his high-school years for stealing too many bottles of JD and stolen muffins at the front desk. The Tap Room always seems to be the joyous “mother-lode” of all TDDoC stops…it’s full headcount, endless Christmas cheer, home of countless fabled and untold TDDoC stories. As we toss down the drafts, under the watch of Norman Rockwell’s priceless bar painting, I could not have felt any happier being there, surrounded in such great conversations on all sides. Martha and Marty join in the festivities, Skugi and Mrs. Skugi, Katherine, Janec, Russ and Lynn, all making their rounds…we are here in full force! Sandor bellies up next to us, scotch in hand, discussing his future holiday trip to South Carolina, where he is considering a new career teaching a class called “The Basics of Amazon Drone-Engineering, Followed by Drinks at My Place” at the local community college. A novel idea indeed. Erin and Ed are making their rounds, Rebecca, Tamps, SKA, Goettle, Gman, Su no doubt discussing the trials and tribulations of the future of TDDoC. Gman, who is finishing his grueling MBA, revealed that he has no plans to lead Lockheed to future Aegis technological world-domination, but did confess that he will use what he learned in his teamwork and scheduling classes to correct future TDDoC MPCC aberrations. Can’t think of a better executive choice to lead this pack!
We stumble over to Triumph Brewery, the prime “no-cover” choice to replace Princeton Sports bar, as we head down the ally way entrance and get situated with choice real-estate near the front entrance. Our lovely waitress “Amanda”, a tall, think dark haired beauty, immediately takes drink orders, as the rest of the crew pile in. I ask Cory about his “Tat” on the arm, to which he gave us detailed visual’s on, revealed a near-naked lady creature thing, replied in reference to its origins of some fabled gothic artist that was related to Lady Gaga, Rembrandt and a snake…I think…with a final quote to the effect of “I do whatever the hell I want, whenever the hell I want and however the hell I want to” …well because I still live at home..and oh, yeah, Mom didn’t really approve of the Tat!”, to which dad Mertz replied, in somewhat disheveled shoulder shrugging, eye-rolling gesture that clearly spelled “WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?!!” ?!! Ah, the joys of 20 something rebellions with Tats that drink with family and us during the holidays..gives you the warm fuzzies! As Pods and Rebecca wonder the upstairs and downstairs aimlessly, looking for anything but us, we start to ponder the nationality of our long locked “Amanda”…this begins with Al Janec calling her “Pocahontas”, to which she replies “close -very close.. but no cigar you stupid Ski-Cap-headed shithead…cause what I’m really made of is part Italian, mostly Dominican and a 5% of native American Indian…which YOU will never get to see, so now shove that down your throat with that Honey Blonde…and oh, May I get you another ?”. I’m in love already. She actually turns out to be one the nicest servers on the tour, even letting all of us touch and feel those native long, dark locks of hers (except for Janec of coarse). Later, as the buzz really starts to set in, Erin comes to me with her Chocolate Martini in hand, and asks ME to put it up for consignment, as she and hubby Ed are pondering an early exit, to which Rebecca spotted from a distance, snatching that martini from my hand like a lighting fast toad and says’ to Erin – “stay put Bitch...You ain’t going anywhere, cause you and me, cow-girl, we’re gonna get toasted!!” This didn’t go over too well with hubby Ed, who was now demoted to DD for the evening, with Erin realizing more Christmas shopping will be in order for hubby…at least this year.
Tamps & Rita return from a high-command ordered scouting trip to Witherspoon Grill (WG) and A&B (alchemist and barrister)…to which Rita (lead spy) say’s upon return “no doubt, it’s Witherspoon!”. So, Marty/Martha/Yo and Mrs. Yo make an early departure to secure seats at the partially empty, high-end WG bar, complete with a few scantily clad blonde party girls latched onto wealthy Pton men, to which my instincts on this lame scenario said to text Tamps – “we’re here, w/ stools (and some scenery)“..to which a return text arrives, with a last second change order that it’s now A&B, hereby overruling lead spy Rita (Oh boy, paybacks will be a bitch). Ah, the MPCC saga continues! Bar order is cancelled, one last glance at the lacey blonde party girls, as we head out to secure a central table at A&B in the center of 21 something’s(?) tossing down cheap beer. Martha notices the orders of hot pretzels scattered about the wild revelers, and so it goes - we order a batch too, which turns out to be the “Massive Pub Crawl Hit of the Night” (MPCHoN)…many orders are flowing, complete with the nastiest nose-bleed hot mustard on this side of the Delaware! We’re toasted, surrounded by drunken comrades, Reese and Celeste sharing a seat next to me, eating the best damn fresh baked hot pretzels known to human kind…please tell me what could be better ?!! The rest of the crew takes up a strong-hold position between our table and the bar, forcing many ladies to “Twerk” their way through the entrenched encampment. Ah, the temperature is rising fast! Droid cameras are a buzz, Selfies are flying, Facebook’s uploads beaming across the overloaded WiFi network at A&B, abuzz, with pics of us drunken lads flying about cyber-space! Rumor has it Mark Zuckerberg was awakened at 2am to field a frantic phone call from his VP of Photo Surveillance – a quick Google search on this topic turns up evidence of BitCoin trace-feeds and nude photographic material…all linked to Pod’s mobile phone. This could well be the end for him.
I glance at Marty, who is working on finishing his high-octane shot of Cognac French Brandy…I take a few hits to help him… then begin to uncontrollably pound the table 4 times, to which Reese said “YO, you stupid lush, stop this behavior immediately before I smack you and bring SKA over here to fart”! I settled down immediately, the thought of that last piece too painful to imagine, but continued my reunion with the Cognac, trying very hard to control my auto-immune, spastic gag-reflux reaction to every sip of that rocket fuel. Life couldn’t be any better. We all devour the remnants of the hot pretzels, with Martha and Reese taking turns licking the bottom of the bowl, hoping for one last surviving crumb or two to savior until next year. Billy Bob is joyously soaking it all in, as he toasts to me from the corner, along with many other LMCO Newtowner’s, pondering a less than certain future, with whatever that future holds, we non and ex-Newtowner’s will take this moment to say “Thank You for your service, presence and contributions to this great establishment called TDDoC. May it never end! “ A memorable night was had by all !
No comments:
Post a Comment