I haven't been hung over at work in a while so today is really fucking special. It is also special that I had a meeting at 9 a.m., which hasn't happend since pre-election. Why did they both have to happen on the same day? Isn't that, like, ironic?
So what brought on this hangover? Was it tequila shots and blow jobs? Sadly, no. The crew from failed Thursday Club Home debacle was reprised for the Common show last night at Dream. I have a real bittersweet relationship with Dream. It's either all VIP or dead/lame as hell.
Last night was certainly not dead. In fact, there was a serious line and I felt really sorry for all the suckers that had to stand in it. Anyway, after a brief conversation with the bouncer, we went in to enjoy all Common had to offer.
From the Miller Genuine Draft VIP room, we couldn't see shit. They did have some food and an endless supply of MGD. Excessive amounts of Mandarin + Citron + MGD=hangover.
Something interesting about Common is that he doesn't allow anyone in his VIP room while he's performing. Ego much? He also had better food there.
The roof of Dream is very nice as is Millie the bartender in her boob top. Steve tried to convince me that I am a lesbian and should hook up with Millie. This led me to ponder if I was a lesbian, what would my type be? I thought Millie was a nice girl, but she wasn't daring enough for me. I think I would be more into the wild lipstick types. Or, perhaps more like Shane from "The L Word."
This lesbian conversation had more to do with the total lack of hot guys to enjoy. I also was thinking a lot about how it would be difficult to date a woman with really long nails. Most of the women there last night were black and wearing very tight clothes. For whatever reason, I don't sweat heavier black women wearing tight clothes as much as I do white women. Even women that are 200+ were workin some pretty tight outfits that I thought looked good. Top to bottom many of these women looked totally put together. It would take me a week to look that together. I'm talking nails to match the purse to match the shoes to match the shirt to match the pattern in the stretchy jeans. It never ceases to amaze me.
I am hoping to make it by McFadden's this evening, which may be the exact opposite of Dream.