My Crazy Night in New York City

I was in New York City to visit my sister for a wild weekend away from my stressful job. We had planned out our Friday night on the town: dinner and a show, then hit the bars and dance the night away. Of course, being sisters, we managed to turn the evening into a catty catastrophe of sibling rivalry.

Our limousine service from Westchester NY was scheduled to picked us up outside our hotel around six in the evening. As we were running behind, the night started with a dispute over the hairdryer, and an elbowing contest in front of the vanity. Finally, we clip-clopped through the lobby, jewelry twinkling and perfume wafting, and into our waiting limousine. We sampled the bar immediately to get us back on track, and became amicable just before being dropped off at Nobu – the REAL DEAL for sushi –¬†for our fabulous meal. My sister, the wild child, insisted on hot sake, and while sensational to experience, it turned me into a giggling schoolgirl. We got the check, wobbled onto Hudson, and facetiously hailed our limousine as it pulled up in perfect time.

At nine, we pulled up for the off-Broadway performance of The Phantom of The Opera. We made it to our seats, and when the show ended we left hearing horns ringing in our ears. We rallied and hit the pavement, since our limo service had been dismissed for the night, and walked until we found a bar where we could settled into a booth and dissolved into a slovenly mess of drunken sibling nostalgia. We ended up worshiping the jukebox and dancing to classic rock on an empty dance floor until two AM, when the rest of the bar caught up and joined us in a round of Sweet Home Alabama.

girlsdancing

The night got blurry after that, but the next morning I woke up in our hotel room with my sister snoring away, a Stetson hat crumpled on my head, a club stamp, and a phone number on my hand. We had met a couple of Texan brothers at the club the night before, and ended up bickering for “dibs” over the blonde. We privately decided to settle it on the dance floor… publicly. Needless to say, it was a symphony of uncoordinated, epileptic movement that entertained everyone thoroughly, but sadly, I remembered it all. We can still witness our shame from the various videos immortalizing our weekend in New York.

 

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