Ida-homies Can’t Hang:


My good friend Savannah came down to New York for another weekend. It was her main goal to go clubbing this time, since we had epically failed to get into the clubs the last time she visited. Her cousin was throwing a private party at Avenue this weekend. We planned on at least making an appearance at some point in the night. We dressed in clubbing attire, but decided to meet the Idaho boys at the 13th Step for a little pre-game action. I had to introduce Savannah to my favorite bar in the city, and I knew she would love it. Needless to say, we never left the 13th Step that night. Plus, we couldn’t just leave our guy friends because they had chosen to come out with us rather than going out with a different crowd of Idahoans—obviously the better choice.

We walked in the door and immediately some college boys offered to buy us drinks. The Idaho boys hadn’t arrived yet. I swear one of them takes longer than I do to get ready which I don’t get. All boys have to do is jump in the shower, throw on some nice clothes, a watch, and possibly gel their hair. We took full advantage of our drink offers, however, and after building up a little courage, I told Savannah to “watch and learn.” I then proceeded to walk up to a bouncer that I had been playfully, yet fictitiously, hitting on the entire night. I told him that it was my friend’s 21st birthday. For that, she definitely deserved a free drink and he wholly agreed with me. He walked away and then returned with not one, but two cranberry-vodka creations. Score! Sometimes I think of myself as Nicki Manaj because I’m the baddest bitch around.

After the boys arrived two hours later (not so fashionably late), we decided to hustle people in a few rounds of beer pong. I was playing with one guy, and Savannah with the other. My team totally dominated and we took on a few more challengers. Someone started the notion of a flip-cup tournament and we were all game. Girls versus boys, and we had our game-faces on. I wasn’t even worried. Considering we completely creamed the opposing team four times in a row, there was no need for worry. Almost every single time we each flipped our cups in one try. Girl power! Our guy friends ended up getting completely sloshed because we were feeding them our winning loot of drinks that we couldn’t manage ourselves. We hadn’t realized that the real reason why they were so late was because they had been pre-gaming.

We were ready to leave, so Savannah had me wait with one of our friends outside while she looked for the other guy. This second guy is an absolute pretty-boy. Of course she found him taking shots, in his pink pants, with a guy at the bar. As a guy, you can’t expect to wear pink pants and n-o-t get hit on. We were waiting for around 10 minutes because Mr. Pink Pants was refusing to leave. The 4am closing time came and he was still refusing to leave. The guy whom he had been taking shots with offered to help us get him out of there. We walked toward union square and this new boy bought every one of us water and pizza—so nice! He then helped us hail the guys a cab, and then a second one for us girls. Somewhere in the middle of all the commotion, he managed to pick up my number so that he could text me and make sure we made it home safely.


Alena Netia Horowitz

Leave a Reply