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”
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