For once in my life I live in a pretty urban area. Parking structures every couple blocks. High-rise buildings littered throughout the Downtown area. And the sweet smell of yuppies. And money. And "I deem the risk low, so let's go ahead and transfer the funds to the Swiss account" calls.
With the Promotion on Friday came the need for a celebration. More so than the Miller Lite that was hosted at the event. While it was cool that there was Beverage for the boys, I don't believe I've ever drank that brand. Not even during football season. Beer snob, extraordinaire.
But anyways, people were feeling Havana (which by the name is obviously Cuban). It's close, it has this awesome high table that can hold our extended group of boys and their respected company. Plus, the boys agree that they make a decent mojito.
But first, the Man Date evolves and is witnessed in the kitchen. Tickle fight!
And, of course, Cameron has to make an appearance. Along with his car collection. And the "water" glass that's closest to the camera that looks dirty...that's one of the mojitos. Big and strong. I think each guy had 3. Just think, my vodka tonics were almost that size too. So I only had 2.
After a festive night, the parents of the group decide to call it a night. This is Cameron's dad, sporting his chic Diego backpack on the runway. Just look at him turn a shoulder and work the camera. Ya, I need to email this one to his wife.
Okay, so maybe I was feeling a little festive too. But I had to take a picture of this dinner. It's a pork tostada. And it's goooood. OMG. I can taste it now. And I can eat the whole thing. I've been working out my stomach muscles for this bad boy. If you visit, we will visit this place.
I think wook's giving me Blue Steel, but I could be wrong. The mojitos could have hit his eyesight already. You never know. Unfortunately for the blogosphere, the pictures ended then because we decided to hop around and continue the festivities. Can you blame me for enjoying the festivities also? So the stalkeratzi went back into the purse. Plus Sean seems to think he's Native American. You know, you take his picture and I steal away his soul. So anything I catch of Sean is a "sneak attack."
But then the next night (being Saturday night), it was determined that we should go out and really celebrate the Promotion. Umm, what do you call last night? A dress rehearsal? Wook and I weren't really on board, but apparently everyone else was.
So we start out at Snappers. Great place. Healthy pours. Cute bartenders. Love it.
Plus, it just happened to have an acoustic guitarist serenading the crowd. Awesome.
What's routinely called a cranberry vodka has a cute little name from the New England area, courtesty of Jess (the lone girl) from Baw-ston (Boston). It's a "Cape Cod-er." How clever. But really, it's just a cranberry vodka, with lemon.
And then someone (cough, cough, Jess) decided to throw a round of Kamikazes into the mix. And it wasn't the only round. I'll be honest. Taaaasty little things. I would do them again. But maybe not two rounds in one night.
Wook enjoying his one of many healthy pours from the bartender who looked like the Millionaire Matchmaker, Patty Stanger. Just a little shorter and a bit thinner.
The musician was seated on the 2nd floor which was behind us. I was worried that we were going to get blown out, but it was great. Wook was able to request songs and Joe had front row.
But then, the bar went empty. Completely empty. Minus us. The music was still playing, so what's up? But it was like the people who only work Downtown headed back home. Who knows. Points for wook for picking to live 2 blocks from this place.
The grave of the 2nd round of Kamikazes. Really, who keeps ordering these things?
That's the highest bar tab I've seen. And for clarity, there were 5 of us. But still...
Sean, the other half of the Man Date for those who know Mr. Cady, spilled a drink on himself. The first spill of Saturday night, but the second one after Friday night's spill, which was a nearly full Jameson 'n Coke he unleashed onto the table. Two words: CUT OFF. Again.
So now we're back at wook's place, debating our next move. Food? Sleep? What's up? Joe's in good shape and not close to what his body language is saying, for the record. Sean, however, is a different story. You know how Ted Mosby was curious whether he was "vomit free since '93?" Well Sean was, until he went home (a block away), and then...well...you know.
But before we could make a decision about what to do, some yard ape broke a beer bottle. I swear, if I get a piece of glass in my foot, someone's fronting my bills.
Aha, potstickers it is. Yup, the kind from Costco. They're a trend for post-drinking meals. Cheap, easy, quick...that's what she said. And they're believed to put Sean over the edge. Because the spins he did have before he ate wasn't the culprit. Riiight...
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