Leather vs. Lycra

This week has been pretty uneventful.

Hence the blogger’s block.

I’ve been mostly on time to work and appointments, so no funny stories about me almost biting it on the pavement in my strappy kitten heels, cursing at the people in front of me for driving too slow and making me even more late, or getting mean looks from my boss.

There’s also been a severe lack of alcohol consumption on my part lately. (Minus the glasses of wine I’ve had with dinner. A glass of red wine a day keeps the doctor away, so I’m told. But being healthy doesn't really make for exciting blog fodder.)

Case in point: I didn’t even go out to celebrate Cinco de Mayo last night. And I pride myself on being culturally diverse and knocking back a few in observation of other country’s holidays. Woohoo, Chinese New Year, St. Patrick’s Day, Yom Kippur, etc!

Instead, my Cinco de Mayo consisted of a homemade dinner of lemon broccoli chicken, rice, and asparagus and downing a big-girl glass of red wine while watching Enchanted and fantasizing about McDreamy - none of which screams “Viva Mexico!” in the slightest.

The best story I’ve got is one from this weekend.

Saturday night, I went to a martini bar with Just Jack and his friend, McFly. Every Saturday, this bar, which I shall affectionately refer to as Martini Heaven, serves $5 cosmos. All night.

A phenomenal deal no matter what, but Martini Heaven doesn’t fuck around when alcohol content is involved. They make sure the drinks are worth every penny of the $5 their patrons shell out. And no Aristocrap, either.

I watched in awe as the bartender poured three cosmos then reached for the vodka bottle again, added more to the shaker, and strained pure vodka to the top of our already toxically strong drinks. This left our cosmos with virtually no pink tint. If I had to guess, I’d say that drink was 98.3% vodka, 1% triple sec, .4% lime juice and .3% cranberry juice.

Two of these bad boys and you are good to go. And for only $10! That never happens in a straight bar.

Best part of the evening though, was before we got to Martini Heaven.

Just Jack and I went over to McFly’s (who conveniently lives in the apartment building next to mine). They are in an upcoming play together and just received wardrobe assignments. McFly’s costume basically consists of black, pleather-looking jock strap with chaps, except they only come down mid-thigh. Hott.

McFly’s roommate (who is also gay): Ooooh, I like that. Can I borrow it?
McFly: No, I don’t want have to clean it after you wear it.
McFly’s roommate: It’s leather, it’ll be easy to clean.
McFly: It’s not leather, it’s lycra.

O.M.G. Hardest I’d laughed in weeks.

Gotta love the 'mos!