It’s easier than you might think to spend a hungover Sunday indoors.
Other than two good meals and taking headshots of me on a playground, I managed not to go out today at all.
Last night was Rubulad, the mythical Brooklyn party, which I introduced Pete to for the first time. We drank Steel Reserves and watched a band play some sort of series of broken garden-ware to interesting effect. I can’t remember the band but I remember their song entitled “I am Frank Sinatra” which may or may not have involved a chorus involving the title.
I had: 22oz Steel Reserve, Shot of Homemade Absinthe (bitter but potent!), and 2 PBRs, not counting the shot I bought for the guest speaker from my film class who I ran into at the party, a beardo named Max Coyote Nova.
Getting home at around 2:30, I chugged water as fast as I could from the refilled plastic bottles that sit in my fridge. I know eventually they might give me cancer, or that’s what people say. For now they give me water.
It was enough that my hangover was mild, cured by a Chicken and Guacamole Club from the Sullivan Diner, which came with french fries fried with onions for more flavor, the sandwich stuck with toothpicks in quarters.
My sense of elation however was wasted on a day indoors. The sad fact is that if you got something to occupy you at home, you don’t work as hard to find something worth going out for and thus 1 became 7, followed by a brief outing for dinner.
Dinner came from Dallas Jones BBQ, another hangover cure take-out place, the cure I mentioned in my previous post on hungover-vomiting. The Mac and Cheese, Garlic Potatoes and Spicy North Carolina Pulled BBQ Chicken you can get there for a reasonable price come in sealed containers that withstand iced-winter nights on the walk back home.
Fork, TV and your done.
And 8 became 1:30, which is around now.
I had the residual elation of the food and also, you just feel really good when you go in a day from having a hangover to not, just as you feel great when you stop to notice you no longer have a cold, or an ear or a sinus infection (any or all of which I might have right now).
Just a Hangover Sunday, spent indoors. Let’s hope for some movies to see in this hinterland of cinema or some people foolhardy enough to see plays with me to get me through the weekends.
Till then, let the video-game-adrenaline-paranoia resume.
Sullivan bet. Houston and Bleecker St. Manhattan.
ACEBDFV to West 4th.
DALLAS JONES BBQ-
Corner of Bedford and 6th Ave. Manhattan.
1 to Houston St. CE to Spring St.
Rubulad will wait for another time.