My Sick Weekend

You may not be hearing from me for a couple of days. Check the obituaries, because I'm venturing out to the big city. Not Philadelphia - New York, which, next to Tokyo is the really big city.

Here's the rundown of my next two days (or so):

Friday: Pick up my friend and take him to New York City, where we are to see a Yankees game on Friday night with 11 of his best friends as a celebration of his pending nuptials. The civilized among us call this a "Bachelor Party". The game should be over by 10:30, at which time we will venture back to the city to do [God knows what] and retire to the Roosevelt Hotel where [thank God] I will collapse in a heap in whatever BAC I am in at the time. I'm guessing 20%. For $135 a person, I figure I can be near death and still make it out for check-out time. That's the goal.

Saturday: I check out, they drive my friend back to Philadelphia, where I will [eventually] meet them for dinner at the City Tavern, a fine establishment in a high-rent district of the city that will undoubtedly regret making our reservations. At least that's the plan.

The upshot of all this is that it is going to rain almost continuously from now until Saturday morning, virtually wiping out the weekend in New York (already paid for) and maybe the Saturday in Philly (not my problem, since I live here).

Yours truly (me) will be under some amount of stress, since it is my responsibility to transport said (future former) bachelor to New York. Fortunately for him, I'm not responsible for his return trip, which will come after a good night's [pass out] sleep and the forced exit [check out].

Saturday night: I meet up with the travelers for dinner at City Tavern, which, I fear, is ill-equipped to deal with a dozen men. in varied states of masculine [something]. What I fear (as the elder statesman) is that the party will migrate to the city's strip clubs. Seriously, I have spent enough money in these places in my younger years to make me (a) cynical of their existence and (b) desirous of a good night's sleep in lieu of the hundred or so dollars I will spend in a girl's crotch that will not be sharing the night with mine. If I have my wits about me [doubtful], I will bid goodnight to the revelers shortly after dinner.

So, you may not be hearing from me for 36 hours or so. However, once I dry out (inside and outside) I'll be back to the regular nonsense to which you have become accustomed.

Say a little prayer to [whichever] God you pray to that I don't wind up on a police blotter or some Internet site. New York City is a big place. Philadelphia is smaller, but no less identifiable, so, put that profile picture in your mind's eye and deny seeing it.

Meanwhile, the weather forecast holds rain for the weekend, putting the Yankees game at risk. Pity, since the room is already paid for and my obligation already obligated.

The world's an imperfect place.