December 30th 2012
It was pretty evident.
After sifting through our acid trip round of karaoke photos, we were ready to take on day 2 of inexplicable shenanigans.
We did basic things like eat lunch (at my favorite restaurant in NYC) The Meatball Shop , honoring their slogan of “We make balls!” whilst drawing collaborative masterpieces on their dry erase menus that looked like this:
We laughed. We joked. We left. And on our way out we noticed that the wind outside the premises was particularly epic this day…and I only say this because minutes between leaving the restaurant and pursuing the subway station, Penny and Claire were so stunned by the 80 mph winds, it caused them to collide heads, leaving each party with involuntary concussions.
I reacted appropriately
Put the gang on the subway
Ready for yet another series of unexpected decisions and ninja-like escapades.
I said ninja.
And by Ninja I mean Ninja New York Restaurant. And by Ninja New York Restaurant, I mean this:
We ate dinner in a “dungeon” like this:
With waiters who took our dinner/drink orders whilst posing in stances like this:
Why was this happening? Clearly you’ve never hung out with me.
Now, may I remind you. That this trilogy originated as an intimate college reunion between Al, Hallie, Brandon, Penny, Claire, Lark and I – but before I knew it, I was sitting in a ninja dungeon with a merry lot of unexpected guests (which involved calling Ninja New York on 5 separate occasions to expand my reservation which by the way, the Super Mario world soundtrack is their ring back tone) Kwesi, our high school friend Max, Back up singer (BUS), and Nicole Detamble all included. We found ourselves looking and feeling like a motley crew that photographed like this:
That quickly morphed into an eclectic “I think you’re my cousin’s brothers uncle twice removed that once served fondue to my aunt’s dentist’s brother but fuck it we’re at ninja village and this is awesome so let’s party on” type dynamic enjoying gracious deeds from BUS including ordering a bucket of Ninja star nuggets for the table whilst we all karate chopped our salads with glee (and a bit of violence) upon the waiters request.
The food was good
Lychitinis were good
And pretty soon after copious amounts of Armor edamame, Shinobi Paella and Buffalo Fish and chips we sat around in jovial satisfaction planning on our next desired location. Maybe we should go to the lower east side? Potentially check out Brookl-
Indeed we had one more guest.
He flew in from the right side of the dungeon >>>
Stopped in the middle of the room.
And began screaming in ninja hysterics. He introduced himself as “Ninja Mike” and proceeded to pass out his…personal business card that looked like this:
“I AM THE GREAT NINJA MIKE (PATRICK) HERE TO DELIVER ALL OF YOUR NINJA MAGIC NEEDS” he screamed.
You know I didn’t even know I had ninja magic needs. But I totally did. And then I found out it had free delivery. NICE.
“GET READY TO GET YOUR MIND BLOWN. FOR I WILL TAKE YOUR MIND. AND BLOW IT.”
As promised, he began casually blowing the minds of every lychitini drinker in the room.
He shuffled some cards, tossed some coins, summoned a mojito
And once his unexpected yet rather enjoyable performance was over, Ninja Mike and his magician ways exited the premises.
And so did Al.
“Al?…Has anyone seen..Al?”
“I see him over there!”
We glanced over and noticed Al whispering in a muffled tone to (Ninja? Magician?) Michael in the far corner of the restaurant. I couldn’t hear much but I could hear these two things:
“So like…what are you doing tomorrow?” Al inquired.
“Dude are you…asking me out or…” – (Magician? Ninja?) Mike.
– back to the muffling-
We all stood there. Puzzled as pie in the ninja elevator until Al joined us shortly thereafter. We asked him what in the hell was going on to which he replied “Don’t worry about it.”
And we were on our way. Lark had told us of a place. A great place. A place called “Doc Hollidays”. Where rude signs are posted, cowboy boots are dangling from the ceilings and juke box capabilities are located at the far corner of the bar. We walked in and saw this:
Then bought a round of these:
Eventually filled up that shit and cheersed with them like this:
Found a balloon that said “Happy Baptism!” on it in spanish and snapped photos with it like this:
Did a physical demonstration of beer tits like this:
Began swing dancing with BUS in a violent manner like this:
Made coherent faces like this:
Embraced each other entirely too passionately like this:
Threw up peace signs and promptly played “Big Buck Safari” afterwards like this:
Destroyed food that did not belong to us like this:
Got down with our bad selves like this:
And all the while I glanced over at Al periodically and noticed that he had an unusual attachment to his cellular device. Strange for a man who prides himself on personal conversations and his technology free ways…curious when I noticed he was delivering messages to a mystery recipient. Perplexed when he asked me what my exact address was because…someone wanted to know…Did this call for a drunk text interception? Clarification that he wasn’t google searching Scarlett Johannsen with the stomach flu…again? A casual walk by to see if he was taking a selfie to drunkenly instagram for all the world to see?
I approached him like this:
“SOOOOOOOOOO who’s the lucky girl?”
“I mean you’re texting. It’s 4am. You’re smiling. You’re drunk. So am I. Let’s hear it.”
“….Ahh…okay alright fine it’s – “
“I’M STARVING LET’S GO HOME” – Hallie
Our conversation was temporarily put on hold to satisfy the hunger of fellow herd members whilst we traveled home and set up camp in a subway station like this:
Had arguments about lingerie for 45 minutes on 4am public transportation like this:
And as we finally stumbled into my upper east side abode I tucked everyone into their not so designated resting places and said goodnight to another successful episode of NYE round 2.
As I shut off the lights and made my way out of the living room I heard a distant voice echoing through pitch black that said:
“Hey Olive one more thing.”
It was Al.
“The person? I was texting?”
“It was the magician. I hired him for our New Years Eve pregame tomorrow. He’ll be here at 3pm. Goodnight!”