I just got back from what you’d think was a long evening by the time, yet I spent most of my early evening cleaning house. Once off work at 7 tonight, I shelved the PC and took up social networking… unpluged… and it was much more interesting than FB, MS or TWTR.
Rob is a business partner I sold some security software to a few years ago, and despite having a great vendor-customer relationship, they’ve never implemented it. Ridiculous move I know, but you can lead a horse to water…
He lives around the corner and we hooked up tonight to try out a pizza joint up on Houston called Pizza Mezzaluna that opened it’s doors three months ago. After order a margherita pizza and calzone for me, we met Francesco discussed loosely the enjoyment he gets out of making his traditional Neapolitan-style pizzas. With a wood burning oven and Italian wine, I’m quickly sold on this joint over Arturo’s.
We split ways and I headed up to Think Coffee on Mercer to coat my throat with tea and catch up on my American history, reading David McCullough’s John Adams. I’ve been here a few times and find it horribly distracting for a study coffee shop.
First the background music is an eclectic collection of unoriginal coffee shop folk and contemporary CDs, played on a dirty player that skips through half the song every third track. There’s always some freak that came in drunk to just use the bathroom and disrupts the mental posture of all the NYU students trying hard to look like they’re studying on their Mac. To no avail, the dumb artsy broad and frail geek always sit next to me and chat about meaningless bullshit.
Tonight I couldn’t help over hear this kid asseverate his hatred for Australian people: “99.99% of the people in Australia are dicks.” “Every adult, teacher and student is a dick, ” he continued “even the kids”. Apparently he lived in Perth when he was 9, and the female friend had only visited, banging an aspiring filmmaker for the short time she was there. “Everyday the kids would beat me” and “every friend I tried to hang out with, they would beat, so no one would ever hang out with me”. “They’re dicks!” he proclaimed. With his whinny prose and lack of imagination, I wanted to kick his ass right now too: Shut the Fuck up and stand up for yourself!
It was too much, I bounced home to clean the house prior to my trip this weekend.
I text the woman at 12 maintaining that I wouldn’t be helping her into bed this evening. She went out at happy hour for a glass of wine Tuesday with the Graf, and stumbled through the doorway after midnight a bottle and a half consumed.
She happened to be down the street at Pegu, so I joined for a few cocktails and found her with a new and old friend. The new being Julian, a small hands Dane from Copenhagen here traveling New York and SF for a week for his birthday. He’s a bartender, apparently on a cocktail bar tour, hitting up Little Branch, Mike and Honey, Death and Co., Angel’s Share, PDT and of course Pegu.
I got a chance to relive my time in Denmark in 2000 which was one of my favorite times. I just looked up my old journal and included an excerpt here:
I woke up early today with Mike and Jack, and took them to Tivoli bus terminal. They were off to Gotland, Sweden. I stayed behind, something I’ve been dieing to do all trip. I wondered around the Latin Quarter looking for record stores and met a few cool people and a shop called Dance Street Records… [I had the worst record shopping experience in my DJ career here and forbid anyone to go here]…
On the way back to my hostel, I met two french women, Wendy and her sister (the bitch) and Oliver from Sweden all staying at the same spot. Wendy was short around 5’2″ with curves and rosy cheeks. Her sister was taller and just plain looking. We all decided to get together later an meet at Folley’s and Irish Pub in city center after dinner. The Frenchies invited me to thai but didn’t know where it was.
In looking for the spot I met Len and Keven, a very cool couple Kevin and Lena. Lena was tall, in shape with straight blonde hair. She looked like she could model. Kevin looked more like her shorter brother than her boyfriend, however, it was never established they were fully dating.
Both were rather forward and awkwardly interested in me. Apparently the French girls picked up on this and were bitter as well, especially Wendy. I, however, was rather flattered with the attention. We all found the Thai spot and I sat outside with the Danes enjoying the weather, while the French girls ate in the stuffy inside.
Even with a light rain and some police action, the conversation flowed and we were getting along very well. Wrapping up the Frenchies wanted to see some of the city, so like a local, we took them to Sorget Street. Lena and I were getting along and we eventually told the Frenchies to get lost, yet they liked our company too much and followed us to Folley’s where we met back up with Oliver.
While at the bar I struck up a great conversation with an older woman until her date showed up. She asked me out the following week, but I was already scheduled to be in Paris. Unfortunately I felt like I was on a bad date with Wendy around. Conversation was one way and her sister chaperon was just butting in when it looked like we were getting too close. Wendy was hot though at one point when we were solo she showed me her tits.
As the night winded down, both Kevin and Oliver left. I was with the three ladies in a predicament. Lena was now making advances but Wendy was as well. Wendy’s sister had some interest as well, but it may have been to just distract Lena. Eventually Lena was as frustrated with the situation as I was and said goodbye, not after making me promise I would see her again before I left.
With Lena gone and having to deal with the third wheel, I decided to call it and head back to the hostel. Wendy and I dropped her sister off and we headed back to the Sleep-In. We walked up to the park to continue our evening which I later found out is part cemetery (Assistens Cemetery)
After meeting a few of the bartenders we continued to chat over hot toddies and scotch cocktails the virtues and marketing of Champagne and the history of the Danish Cherry Heering. It’s a school night so the woman and I wished an early birthday to our new friend and best of times on the west coast as we walked home early for the evening.
I look back at 9 years ago and even today, and I don’t have a problem meeting people in the real world, however, I do have concerns about the next generation of kids that grow up in this disposable culture with more superficial connections over the wire than in personal settings. Maybe I’m wrong but it remains to be scene.
Only a group that brings such a DJ mentality to their music and live shows could garner so much enthusiasm from myself. I’ve been a fan of Thievery for many years, but when you hear their albums, “down tempo”, “reggae” or ” dub” are often genres that describe various melodies and styles of their music, however, on the stage, the sound and bass liven the arena and energize the crowd to a fenzey of head bobin to booty shaken no unusual to the funkiest club scenes. 
