Tonight I was at a bar called The Cook Tavern. I went there with a few friends, stumbled upon a few more friends and pretty soon we had a legit crew surrounding us. That, and the place blew up at around 1130. It was a pretty great night I'd say, and these are the things I'd like to share about it.
They serve food at this place. At one point, me and my buddy bought a serving of fries to eat (and of course share, because intoxicated hands are all over any food they see) and they were really good. The ketchup here is way more runny than ketchup in the US. They even call it tomato sauce, even though it's nothing like the stuff you'd put on a pizza. The point is, the fries came with ketchup. ANYWAY later on, we were all hanging out in the same place and this waiter(?) is walking around with a huge platter with jojos, chicken nuggets, fries and some like egg roll-looking thing. This plate was massive. The dude looks confused and one of my newly acquaintanced friends looks at the guy and just says, "yeah, put it right here" and the dude sets down the platter in front of us and takes off. We just scored a giant plate of food. Food ingeniously formulated to appease the appetites of anyone intoxicated. #WINNING.
We start eating the food while rejoicing in the fact that we had just majorly scored and sharing it with whoever we know that comes remotely near us, but then this blonde girl who I've never seen before drops in on the couch I'm sitting on. I figure someone here knows her and I give her some food. Next thing I know, she's sitting next to me grabbing paw-fulls of food off this platter. I look around and everyone at our little couch circle has the same confused look on their faces. NONE OF US HAVE ANY IDEA WHO THIS CHICK IS. I start cracking up, because I've now realized that this girl has eaten ALL OF OUR CHICKEN NUGGETS without hesitation and nobody has ever seen her before. I ask her, "hey. do you know ANYONE at this table?" To which she replies, "YEAH I KNOW EVERYONE HERE." I try again, "Do you know who this is?" pointing at the guy to her right. "Yeah, he's my BEST FRIEND." This girl was obviously three things: friendly, drunk, hungry. So I shake my head at her and say, "Okay, well my name is David, nice to meet you." Her name was like Bridgette or something, if she was even telling the truth. If we had actually paid for that food someone would've been pissed at her, but since it was a product of good fortune and good timing nobody had any issues with giving her ALL OF OUR CHICKEN NUGGETS. After she finished them all, she waited about two minutes and got up and left. Crazy biddy, that one.
Night keeps going and people are dancing to live music played by this one guy who we have learned is named Johnny (a friend went up and flirtatiously made requests and, I guess, learned his name; the dude was actually very, very talented and I have much respect for his abilities, though he seemed to play an over abundance of John Mayer songs). Honestly, my night may have hit it's lowest point when Johnny started playing Country Road. Back at camp we sing our own version of Country Road at the end of every campfire and hearing that tune again seemed to cause me some real emotional pain. I moved away from the music, had a seat and drank another beer. As if this shitty wheat soda these kiwis call beer would be enough to drown out the sound of all the campfires I'm missing out on and all the times I my friends sang the song without me. It is what it is.
Eventually, I decide to leave this bar because it's almost one o'clock and I'm getting tired. I decide to walk back with a few people I know, but then realize that they don't live anywhere near me. I decide to just walk back on my own; some girl was taking forever getting her stuff together to leave anyway. On my way back, I come to this block. The block has been destroyed. There were literally five giant piles of throw-up on the sidewalk all within six feet of each other. I made a mental note that this was actually hilarious and kept moving. It was cold outside. I guess my information on how kiwis don't party on fridays was bad. They really do.
New Zealand is crazy.
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