I leaned over to him, sniffed and made an "ew" face. I brushed my hand in front of my nose and said, "Gross! Your breath smells like Penis!"
My Saturday began as any other day but by 5pm I found myself, along with some very lucky friends of mine, sitting on the floor at SNL watching Lily Allen do her sound check. I mean, the girl is adorable. Like a tiny British pixie putting on a 2-song concert for me and my pals. She sang "LDN" and "Smile" and refused to look at us because, well, it was fully-lit in the studio and we were like 20 feet away singing along with her. I think even Madonna would have been unnerved by that.
We hung out a little bit longer in the dressing room of my pal. Maya stopped by to talk about her baby, some of the SNL boys stopped in and made cute jokes, as comedians will do. We walked right past Drew Barrymore on our way out of the studio. I missed her, though I'd seen her before, but agreed with my friends that she is "so tiny and adorable!" (I watched the show on my DVR and I think Drew did a GREAT job. Especially on the job interview scene. So funny.)
Upon leaving the studio, my pals and I headed down to The PIT Theatre on 29th street because, you see, we had a show to do! Carrie and I hosted our 2nd "When Did We Become (such) Whores?" show and had another sold-out crowd. I also received a compliment on my "gams" because I was wearing boxers, a tuxedo shirt and high heels. Why, thank you Miss SJ. Thank you very much.
From there I took my entourage over to Mo Pitkin's where Eliza and I had an I Eat Pandas show. We had received a star and a "what to do on Saturday night" write up in Time Out NY so I knew this was going to be a big crowd. Thank god we have patient fans because we started 15 minutes late and our clock wasn't working. I passed out some free IEP buttons to the masses so we wouldn't be booed before even hitting the stage and that seemed to appease everyone. Well, almost everyone except the idiot sitting at the table next to my friends who just stared blankly at me when I offered it to her and then, friends reported later, said "what? I don't get it" and proceeded to talk through our entire show. You, miss, are a douchebag.) We got the show rolling and I have to say it might have been one of our funnest shows yet. We're now doing a once-a-month run at Mo's so you'll have plenty of opportunities to catch the act. Hoooray!
So at this point it's 11pm and I'm pretty near exhausted. But as a part of the deal of doing a show at Mo's you get 6 free beers and I had to drink my share, of course, and that woke me up, of course. And since I'd gotten my 2nd wind I thought why not head to Grassroots on St. Marks for my pal John Foss' birthday? We ended up staying there longer than I expect and I forgot all about my "I'm not going to spend $ on anything I don't need" plan and ended up DRUNK.
(LATE ADDITION: I totally forgot to mention that I met two ladies that night who saw my Pandas show and came to Grassroots. Lovely gals. Real nice dames. Neither of them had ever had an orgasm. EVER! They were pretty near 50 and they'd never felt the rainbow surprise (that's my pet name for "O")! One gal was even married and had been for 12 years! I told those ladies to go out right then and get vibrators and they blushed and said, "oh no! nooooo no no we couldn't!" And it's not like they were shy, they were talkin up a storm about sex. I told them I made sure to have at least one orgasm every day. It's what keeps me so young and alive! And then I told them I was 42. Seriously, come on. HAVE AN ORGASM. And if you are reading this and don't, yourself, have orgasms... I don't want to hear shit about "the guy" not doing it for you. It's up to you, ladies! If he ain't doin' it then you need to do it for yourself. THAT'S WHY YOU HAVE HANDS, RIGHT?? Get your paws off his butt and start helpin' yourself to a big old plate of "O". Here, watch some Sue Johanson, she'll explain it to you. Also, she calls Anal Sex "Bum Sex." I find that adorable and a little creepy. OK, that's all. Please continue the rest of the post.)
At 3:30am I found myself in a pizza place scarfing down a slice like it was my job. Ok, it was two slices. I can't lie to you guys! Carrie has been texting her roommate, Claire, and tells us that she can get us into Plumm (a fancy schmancy club in Chelsea) for free and we can drink for free. Did I need more drinks in me? No. Did it matter? Apparently not because off we went at 3:45am! Marcy and Emlyn bid us a fond farewell (because they're SMART) and Carrie, Marla and I hopped in a cab for Plumm.
We're at Plumm. We're drinking, we're dancing, we're laughing and suddenly a man comes over to Carrie and starts dancing with her and gettin all up in her grill. We're laughing because he's very clearly busted (drunk) and he's saying to her, "I am so hard. I want to fuck you." I mean, come on. LAME. Carrie and I are busting up laughing at him and I'm not sure if that prompted it or if I did something else but the dude leaned in to me and said, "you are just jealous. you're a cock block."
Which brings us to the hand wave, the "ew" face and me saying to this very intoxicated man (at 4:30 in the morning) "Gross! Your breath smells like penis!"
Now... to clarify. It's not that I think it's gross that a mans breath smells like dick. And I don't particularly mind the smell of penis either. (I think I had one of those little penis-scented trees hanging in my car in high school.) It just seemed the most hilarious thing I could say at that point to a dude who was so overtly exuding his "masculinity."
He kept calling me a "cock block" to which I said, "I'm not blocking you from cock. Be my guest!"
And then... I PUSHED HIM. HARD.
He stumbled away (thank god!) but can I just say that none of this was a good idea? Can I just lay that out there right now? I mean, I get WAY too ballsy when it comes to booze and douchey guys. But really, I don't even need booze. I once stormed across a crowded room and told a guy to "shut his fucking face" when he was heckling my friend Birch while he was on stage. So, really, I'm just kind of retarded.
So to summarize: I don't condone this behavior. Just live vicariously through me, won't you?
And that, my friends, was my Saturday. My Shatter-day Night Liver. (Ouch, my liver is swimming in booze.)
Have a great one you lushey whores!