Before the workday ended last week, I was anxious to get the weekend started. The terrible hangover from the weekend before was but a distant memory and I was ready to get the party started. The boyfriend’s younger cousin, a recent Charlotte import, was celebrating his birthday and had invited some friends into town, most of whom are still in college. Since they were not sure where the best places were to go are, the boyfriend and I were charged with figuring out plans for the night. Great. How were we going to find venues that would satisfy their youthful desires to turn up and our desire to stay balanced?
We ended up starting the night at the AvidXchange Music Factory. Label already had a line that was spilling onto the sidewalk and it wasn’t warm enough for VBGB, so we stopped in at Wet Willie’s for a frozen beverage. The crowd was older and they weren’t that busy, so it wasn’t long before we were making plans for the next spot. It took every bit of effort to chug a frozen pina colada before hopping in another Uber SUV to Prohibition Bar in Uptown.
If you’re familiar with the spot, then you know it’s the perfect place for anyone looking for a taste of college.
The venue is dark, filled with unhindered drunks filled with liquid courage and feelings and it’s usually wet — a combination of sweat and spilled drinks. The guy-to-girl ratio was about 3:1 but the cousin and his friends still seemed to be having a good time, so the boyfriend and I stood around awkwardly while searching for a buzz in Bud Light after Bud Light.
With just under an hour left in the night, we managed to get them to the last stop on the tour — Roxbury. I lost everyone for a few and all I had to show for the night were a few snaps of Michael Jackson and Destiny’s Child videos that I sent my mom before passing out at home.
Saturday morning was a nauseous one but I had to suck it up to meet the P.I.C. and her family to check out
The Book of Mormon, a Broadway musical produced by the creators of South Park, at Blumenthal Performing Arts.
This was going to be the first time I’d seen a musical in years and I was nervous. I’d never been a fan of singing plots or intermission, so in South Park, non P.C. fashion, I had put this activity on the long list of things black people don’t do.
But I’d been promising myself I would step outside of my comfort zone at some point and see a show in the artsy fartsy Queen City.
After hearing from friends and co-workers, who’d already seen the show, that it was hilarious but riddled with unchecked commentary on religion and race, I put on my thick skin and headed to pregame with the P.I.C. and her fam.
I must say, after a couple glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon — a terrible drink choice when you’re going to be sitting still in the dark for a couple hours — my sense of humor was much more open to the tongue-in-cheek nature of the dialogue.
I laughed with everyone as an unsuspecting pair of Mormon missionaries get sent to Uganda, of all places, to spread the Good Word. A hilarious, but twisted, journey of faith, Star Wars, lies, sexual humor and race, I left feeling like I had conquered a bucket list item. And buzzed of course, they serve alcohol at the theater, who knew?!
After the show, we headed to Growler’s Pourhouse with her fam for food and more drinks. Side note: I totally thought grabbing a bologna sandwich would set a good base, that is, until I woke up the next morning nauseously burping up sandwich meat. That night was filled with basketball rivalry — Duke vs. Carolina — a broken glass at Blackfinn — where I was celebrating yet another birthday — and stumbled steps into Tilt Uptown.
Sunday was supposed to be reserved for naps and recovery after stopping by Heist Brewery for lunch. But one flight, turned into one beer turned into Red Bull vodka at Slate in South End.
Next thing you know, I’m startled of out of my sleep Monday morning by an alarm set for 7:30 a.m. Time for work. I nervously brushed my teeth waiting for my uneasy stomach to settle, grabbed what was left of a Gatorade and hopped in my car to start the day.
And guess what? This weekend is the Patty’s Day bar crawl, so you know what that means!
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