Davis - "Hangover?" 2/6/08

Really, I only know a few people who have seen the green fairy, those that have been able to partake all warned me. "I've had Absinthe, greatest thing on Earth, worst hangover, I've ever had..."

I don't get hangovers.

Last night I had three drinks all containing absinthe.

This morning I woke up 45 minutes late (for work, meaning my job starts at 9, I woke up at 9:45), if you've been paying attention. I have a bit of a commute (45 minutes, there's a theme developing here). My girlfriend had gone to class, attended class, come home from class, walked into the bedroom and basically screamed.

That's how I remember it anyway. This is where Men are made however, I thrive on this moment, the not sure where I am, what I'm doing, but fuck me if it's not going to get done. I grab my cell phone and immediately call work, I don't ask for my head boss, I ask for me vice head boss, I open my mouth (you should always say something before you do this, at least to clear your throat, unless you want to really sound sick, then ignore what I just said).

"Hi," this is when I cleared my throat. "Sorry, this is Davis, I'm going to be late today (no shit), I have a uhm [indecipherable] appointment. I'll be in like 11."

"Oh, wow, yeah... You sound terrible, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, going to the dentist..."

Not sure how this happened, because as far as I know, I woke up when my girlfriend left.

So I get to work (12:00) and a co-worker invites me to lunch, (beautiful idea, I should eat, I've had quite the morning) him and three other guys from work are going to O.T.B. (Old Town Bar), known as having one of the best burgers in the city, but in reality every time we eat their, I have the burger, I wouldn't let the O.T.B. burger shine my shoes.

I used to go here, because there's always a table and I would write at the tables, by myself, what a douche bag I must have looked like. It wasn't until recently (I never bothered to look around at all while I was inside) that it's known for his "Literary Tradition" Nick Hornby had his book release for About a Boy here. There's tons of history, check the link.

But Old Town Bar is great, for drinking, it's an old speak easy. It's been around since 1892 and has hidden compartments at their tables to store your drinks, when police would raid during prohibition, this was important. When you're drinking at lunch a block from where you work, this is also important.

I can't even remember what we had to drink, but it was a pitcher (or three), then it was off to work. For the day ahead of me.

After work it was Old Rabbit Club (no website, sorry)

124 Rabbit Club
124 Macdougal St., nr. W. 3rd St.; 212-254-0575
Another pseudo-speakeasy, 124 Rabbit Club lives off the well-trodden paths of the West Village NYU herd. Forty-plus Belgian, Czech, English, Irish, and German beers populate the menu; each comes in its own style of glass. The subterranean lair resembles the kind of catacombs where, one imagines, Trappist monks brew their divinely delicious beers. New York Magazine.

Down the stares I descended with my girlfriend, where I rang the buzzer (at the unmarked black door beneath the Ethiopian restaurant) and later secluded I was finally able to make up the morning to her with a nice couple of rounds (4, 4x$12=48, so close to my 45 motif that I had going) of "Ridgeway Santa's Butt". Not the type of place to have purple drinks... But I did tell you that I was built for this shit. Absinthe Hangover and all, I managed to walk in drunk to work four hours late (drunk, not from the night before, but from lunch), make it through the day and cap it at a wonderful spot no one knows about (until now).