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Minutes from 2-23-00
A meeting of the NY Spirits was held�at Lucy's on Avenue A.� I arrived at 8:00 and drank alone for several hours.� At one point, a scruffy-looking young man came in and ordered a shot of Jack Daniels.� I thought he might've been a new Spirit.� I asked him.� He said "no," and after making all-gone with his whiskey, he departed, presumably to chase the dragon in Tompkins Square.� Rosa (Andria) arrived soon after smack-head Bob left, and promptly ordered a Manhattan on the rocks, with extra cherry juice, and a glass of water.� The wonderful tribute to our nation's intelligence, "Who wants to be a Millionaire" was on TV and Led Zeppelin's "When The Levee Breaks" on the jukebox.� Thankfully, the closed caption for the hearing impaired was on, so we were able to enjoy both media simultaneously. � I borrowed a pen from the bartender to take the minutes.� Several minutes later, to my chagrin, he asked for it back.� In return, he gave me an official "Lucy's" pen.� It had the stars and stripes on it.� He told me I could keep it.� I was very grateful, and, as a token of my gratitude, I thanked him profusely.� He smiled at me.� Not in a gay way.� More like an I'm-glad-you-like-the-pen kind of way.� Enough about pens.� Onto the activities.� Rosa and I drank.� We drank some more.� We fed the jukebox.��Then, we drank.� Some people showed up.� We didn't know them.� Matt (Wilty) and Lisa showed up.� I knew them, and, after introductions, Rosa knew them, too.� Wilty was a friend of one of my roommates in 'Frisco (as the locals call it).� Small world. � The following people arrived at some point: Michelle, Seraphim, B.A. (Marion), Jen (DC), Nevin, Tara, Brett, Danny, Coy.� Drinks were ordered.� Lucy, the old Polish�owner/bartender poured the drinks strong, the beer well, and tequila for herself (as well as for a few lucky Spirits).� At some point the subject of titles came up.� I believe I will retain, or rather, transfer my SF Spirit title to the NY chapter.� I will be Night Ranger.� Please remember to pick up your titles at next Wednesday's meeting. � Gates sauntered in at some point, proclaiming, "I'm Michael."� The Grammys were on, and you could feel the emotions in the bar rising during each award presentation.� Santana won big time.� We toasted to Carlos.� Viva Santana!� A female pianist performing on the show appeared to have a dumpface.� Michelle had never heard the term before.� I explained to her that the term describes a woman's whose face looks as if she were "going #2".� Seraphim challenged me to a hug-off.� After "humping" both of her legs, and blowing in her face, she relented.� I remain undefeated. � Michelle thinks the NY Spirits need to start some traditions; then she left to catch a�cab.� I don't think that should be one of the traditions.� Jen, the special guest from DC, scribbled some notes and email addresses in the minutes.� I can't decipher her chicken scratch, so forward this to whomever's e-mail she fucked up.� Matthew from San Francisco was at the bar.� Some people were playing pool.� I took 3 leaks.� Not in a row.� Ruddy Steve showed up.� He bought a round and a tequila for Lucy.� How is this guy still single?� Bisexuality was discussed.� It was decided: bisexual women are the hottest; a bisexual men is the worst kind; both are really just waiting for the right shillelagh.� According to Jen, Brett will always be in the closet. � See you next Wednesday.
