There’s no drunk like girl-drunk and there’s no girl-drunk like a drunk girl group.
My friend Julia was turning 22, and having been robbed of two glorious birthdays by this pandemic, decided to celebrate with a night on the town with her best gal pals. So, for one night and one night only, we decided to hit the town to celebrate Julia’s birthday. There is nothing like a night on the town with “the girls” at the end of a long week. I’ve waited my whole life to say those words.
In attendance were Anahat and Alexis and two other friends of Julia’s, Caitin and Sahiba. Getting out of a five hour class, I threw on my black leather dress, knee-length Michael Kors boots, and over-the-shoulder Kate Spade bag, before hauling ass to meet up with my friends.
For her birthday, Julia took us to a restaurant in Midtown called “Taco Vision,” a loud, dimly-lit restaurant filled with stylishly-dressed people: something I always keep my eye out for. It was a dinner for catching up with friends and eating tacos that had me renewing my vows for how much I love my friends and falling in love with ripe slices of avocado.
The food was amazing but Taco Vision is mostly known for their impressive array of drinks. They have this smooth and fantastic signature drink called a “double vision,” which is a frozen paloma, a frozen margarita, and a shot of tequila, served in a spicy-rimmed tiki glass with a slice of lime. They call it a double vision for a reason.
They went down pretty smoothly with all of the tacos I scarfed down (it had been a few hours since I’d last eaten out of anticipation for our food).
To keep the momentum going, we walked around for a bit, making it to a place that was bathed in electric blue light, where the DJ played “22” by Taylor Swift at our request, after which I slipped her a twenty to show my gratitude.
My friends all share a love of espresso martinis, so they kept those coming all throughout the night, along with more shots of tequila. If I were to give my friends a blood alcohol test, I might not have found any blood in their alcohol.
Sahiba and Alexis parted ways with us while the rest of us walked to an Irish bar named “Jane Doe.” Sometimes you want to go where everybody knows your name. Other times, you can go to a bar where your name is so irrelevant that the bar is literally named “Jane Doe.”
I would say that this place was more of the same, except for the fact that at some point someone knocked over the table, broke a glass, and then cried about it. Believe it or not, it was not me. Finally, we made it to our last stop, which ended up being a nearby nightclub.
Some Marines were visiting the night club as well, so naturally I wore one of their hats. No one wanted to dance on a bar top with me, which is fine. You should always save something for the next night out. We danced until we felt like we couldn’t stand anymore– which was due to all of the dancing and walking and not the drinks– and then hobbled next door for a slice of pizza, and a cannoli, if you’re me, while we waited for our Uber.
So, what have I learned from this? Absolutely nothing, which is what made it worth it. It was just a really great night filled with some pretty cool people. After two years of laying low and being cautious, it felt good to be indulgent and irresponsible, and at the end of yet another long week of being a full time student, part time intern, and a 24 hour human peon, also known as an RA, it felt particularly euphoric to hit the city with a few of my closest girlfriends. I got to experience that feeling of instant relief when I was released into the city, the kind you get when you face plant into your bed and know that you’ll fall asleep immediately, or like exhaling after holding your breath for a full minute.
Here’s to wishing everyone an equally debauched and cathartic night on the town and a happy birthday to Julia!
The Tragic Queen,