the conclusion to the wild night out was that after going out a little after 7:30pm,
we met up with hillary’s friend who doesn’t drink water ever (“but what do you drink when you’re really thirsty?” “coffee.”) at the trendy bar;
we then chose from a variety of assorted cocktails with names like “the french floozy”, “the adulteress” and “puissance douce”;
then we ordered meals to take the edge off and scarfed those down, there may have been burps on my part;
we then made up an elaborate game of entertainment for the evening involving alternate identities and book deals and semi-high society;
then we realized we had 4 hours to kill until people would actually be out;
we then made some calculations about where to go to bide time, preen ourselves and review our gameplan;
we then limped pathetically to a bookstore in the biting cold where we read trashy magazines until our eyes rolled back in our heads. though, in my defense, at one point i was sitting next to a man loudly arguing with himself and occasionally muscle spasming (in his defense, he was reading time);
finally, after acknowledging the night had probably peaked at 8:15pm, we called it quits around 10pm. though, in everyone’s defense, we did broadway dance all the way home.
in conclusion, you know your hair is getting long when some of the muffin you are eating falls in it and you just store it there to be dealt with later.