How do you respond when your parents ask, “Hey I have another ticket for a Little Italy bus trip to NYC?”…besides ‘What time do we get back?” I didn’t care about the cost, that was 2nd in my mind, I cared about the return time. Would my Saturday night be a wash? So I accepted in hopes this would be fun, not ever anticipating the amount of notes and hysterical moments that would come out of this. (Thanks to Mom for letting me borrow a pen to document almost everything!)
Let me set the scene – this trip was out of the local American Legion, the patrons on this trip were a majority of 55 and up, local yocals wearing matching Harley Davidson shirts, resembling truck drivers and some of us normal folk and those young enough to drink but old enough to witness. We left the parking lot at 7:30 am, they were taking drink orders at 7:35 am. I waited to have my first drink at 9 am which was a vodka cranberry with a splash of OJ, served just about to the brim of the solo cup, but so strong the vodka was sitting on top it needed a good stir. No wonder the volume of the bus had gotten a little louder. They also were running a 50/50 with door ‘prizers’ (and no the woman in charge of the microphone wasn’t drinking yet) to support the local chapter. We were also given strict instructions to ‘look around for their partner’ to apply the buddy system because if you’re not back by the time the bus leaves its your responsibility to find your way home. By that time I guessed that 75% of the bus would be sleeping on the way back. Boy was I wrong.
Overall the trip was fun, I really had a great time shopping, lying about who I was, using a different name, and looking for the nearest bar to kill time before we got back on the bus. The Dublin House was open at 8 am, so we hit that spot after our first stop at Zabars, each of us threw back a shot of JD Tennessee Whiskey and a beer. I was still pretending to be the pseudo wife of my ‘date’ for the ‘other ticket’. I got to use a new name too. We took some pictures at the bar, saw ‘Thor’ from the Avengers and headed on our way. They had the “Excalibur” at that bar, if you don’t know what that is well its a man’s “Thank you very much”. After the next few stops and another ‘free’ whiskey shot with a Brooklyn Blast chaser (very good beer btw) the highlight was my Mom joining in on the ‘game’ when this married guy on the street noticed I was yawning, started a conversation, asked where we were from and I came out with “Exit 12 on the Turnpike” (well I am from there I just don’t live there now) and my mom comes out with “Wisconsin”, which prompted my stepdad to answer “Oshkosh” after the guy asked ‘where abouts?’ I had to bite my tongue from laughing so hard and squeeze the glutes to keep from peeing my pants.
The ride home was nothing short of silent during National Lampoons Christmas Vacation 2 where occasionally you heard from the ‘bus bar area’ say ‘take off your clothes’. Some key comments of the night are below, in no particular order and you can make it up as you go along. Somehow I forgot I bought Soprasado, and found it wrapped up in my fridge.
“I tried pushing it but it wouldn’t stop” (me trying to make the screeching noise stop from the window seat)
“Kiss my asshole.”
“I have an extra hand I could hold something”
“Show me your apps”
“5 dolla, 5 dolla, 5 dolla”