I went out on Friday to meet Mikey and some of his friends at Happy Endings on the LES. The bar is one of my favorites, it’s an old Chinese “massage” parlor that maintained the same exterior. The steam rooms are now mini semi-private lounges, the upstairs seems to have a bit of an older crowd, while the basement (which has a DJ/dance floor) is usually fairly packed with us youngsters.
It was a great time, we even saw younger version of Stephen. In fact, I’m fairly certain that Stephen might have travelled back in time and then brought his younger self to the future with him. Everything was fun until Mikey got me a “filthy martini”, sort of like a dirty martini, but filthier. This is pretty much the only drink I’ve ever not drank because of the taste. The horrible olive taste didn’t even mask the vodka, which I would have much rather preferred to drink straight up. I could only get down about 3 sips and then I had to stop. Mikey took one sip and almost threw up. Then the drink got passed around, tasted out of curiosity, and then discarded in our group of people, like B.K. at a party in Chelsea full of rice queens*.
Luckily, afterwards we headed over to Khati Roll near the West 4th stop on the F,V,B,D / A,C trains, and I was able to get that awful taste out of my mouth. The rolls were amazing. Essentially they’re Indian flat bread (chapati) with an Indian style omelette and curry all rolled up into deliciousness. Mikey was the only white person there, thereby increasing his happiness.
*This sentence inspired by Mikey
