Through the eyes of a bouncer

A regular patron of the bars in my neighborhood, I've developed unique relationships with a couple of the bouncers. More than once, knowing the bouncers has snagged me entrance to a packed bar, or the bar after hours.

Friday night, following Thursday's Blogger Happy Hour (which turned into 2AM drink-fest), two of my bouncer friends went out of their way to comment upon our festivities.

Bouncer #1: My unoffical doorman
Always standing outside the restaurant beneath my place, this bouncer knows more about my life than my roommates. He knows what time I get home from work, my unhealthy reliance on cabs, how often I go the gym, my dating regularity, and how few get an invite upstairs. He can always be relied upon to give me a hard time after a night out. Following Thursday's debacule, he made a point of commenting on the group's "state-of-mind" as we bar hopped from the Magician to the Back Room. Avenue Elle, Dolly, Polly, Nice Guys, Monkey, Betsy, Josh and all... I was not the only one talking with an "alcoholic megaphone". We were all called out for being rocked and rowdy.

Bouncer #2: Guardian of "the door" at the BackRoom
Surprised to see me for a second night running, he asked if any of my girls got lucky with the Boston Bruins. (Yes, ladies that really was the full squadron of the Boston Bruins.) He was very surprised to hear that the ladies might have all struck out with the Boston sport guys, from where he was sitting, it all looked promising. Is there something someone wants to confess??

Gotta love the bouncers point-of-view on our night out. So glad someone was there to remind us of the insanity that was our first NYC Blogger Happy Hour.

Now if only someone could find my misplaced orange scarf...