This was supposed to be a fun thing, and in theory, it was. And in practice it was as well, but for other people and before I got there. I had drinks at the Algonquin* with some ladies. The plan was to get there at 6:15. At 5, it looked like I would make it. At 6:30, too many tiny things had gone wrong at work for me to get there on time, but not enough big things for me to not get there at all. So I dashed up there just before 7. I joined five lovely ladies (and one gent, whom I'd never met but who I'm going to assume is lovely). And the drunk out-of-towner who would not. leave. us. alone. Apparently he'd been commenting on my friends' bodies before I got there, and decided that was fun, and wouldn't stop. He also decided he had carte blanche to hover over the various conversations, and chime in when he felt like it. It took him telling the other Jen that he thinks I'm too skinny for me to totally blow up at him and to tell the assistant manager that he was making us uncomfortable. Then A.M. had to stand between us and the drunk, who was escorted out of the bar and followed around by security, while the bar's cool lady manager came over and apologized. Then we left. I walked alone for five blocks to the subway, constantly expecting Drunkie to pop out of a mailbox and yell "Surprise! Eat a sandwich!" But he didn't and that was good.
I realized that this night was double new, because never before have I had someone thrown out of a bar.
The "before" picture. Jen's taking it and Ann is watching out for her, because the drunk jerk is about to try to take my camera.
*This doesn't cancel out the Tea at the Algonquin that a couple of people have suggested and want to get in on. This was planned by someone else and I couldn't say no!