OK, last one and I swear I'll do my homework

Let's talk about it: Hennessey's.

Last night, Katie and David and I ventured to Hennessey's in Faneuil Hall. We met Danielle and some of her friends there.

The night all started with a viewing of Dirty Dancing (the uncut version happened to be on TV, which means the Baby/Johnny sex scene was UNCUT. SCORE.) and a discussion of the evening's plans. When we decided to go out, I suggested that David and I eat the frozen meatballs in the fridge that my mom had given us on Labor Day weekend.

(David thought that it was weird that I ate things that had been frozen for so long. I barely understood his point because my mom will sometimes find frozen spaghetti sauce from months and months ago and make it for dinner. Nobody knows the difference, it still tastes better than anything I'll ever cook.)

Anyway, I'm not a very patient chef, so David had to constantly restrain me from poking the frozen cube of meatballs while it simmered in the pot and also scolded me for not having the proper spatula/spoon equipment. He also kept trying to get me to abandon the simmering meatballs and boiling eggnoodles to go make out in my room. Luckily, I gave him a crash course in fire safety, and we dodged that bullet. Instead, I chugged my beer and poked the frozen meatballs, while he looked around the kitchen for a working timer.... right, a timer that we could set in short intervals of three minutes, so that we could make out for a little while and then check on the food. David. Come on. (NOTE: there are no working timers in my kitchen, turns out.)

The meatballs were heavenly. I had some applesauce with mine, which David also thought was weird. I think it's the only way to eat meatballs.

I really like going out to bars, mostly for the getting ready part. Each of us had a shower and enjoyed our beers while we bathed. I love that. For about an hour, Katie and I danced around and drank and sang Britney Spears and the Backstreet Boys looking super hot, while Dave worked on the laptop in the living room and nursed beer #2. (You're so responsible, hun.)

Before we left, Katie and I convinced Dave to do a shot of pretty old tequila with us out of shotglasses that we soon realized hadn't been washed since we moved from Brighton to Dorchester four months ago. Oops. "Extra protein," said Katie.

After a semi-torturous ride on the train that involved the red line not moving for 5 minutes at JFK, me falling over and flattening a slim South Asian man against the doors of the green line, and exchanging dirty looks with non-cute girls in minidresses, we finally made it to Hennessey's, where the line was pretty long. We had to pee, but luckily the line moved real fast.

The scene at Hennessey's was pretty white and pretty lame. The DJ upstairs wasn't very good at all. He was mixing things that shouldn't be mixed, or don't need to be mixed, and there was too much techno. Downstairs, I don't even know what was going on, but it was too low key, and since we paid a $10 cover, at least we should be dancing and not standing around (at least that was my theory).

Dave and I had a good time dancing and observing some pretty ridiculous people. I opened a tab but only had one beer, then went back to the bar with Dave to close my tab, only I made him to it because (a) I had never opened a tab before and was unsure what do to; (b) didn't want to yell loudly at the bartender, which I would have had to do because it was so loud; and (c) suddenly realized when I started to talk that I was a little drunker than I thought.

We jammed to Kanye's "Stronger" while we waited at the bar, and I neurotically tried to keep making Dave get my credit card, and he had to calm me down and remind me that this was not an emergency. I'm sort of irrationally obsessive sometimes. I definitely get it from my mom.

In the end, there's really nothing like a trip to an overpriced bar filled with desperate, mostly geeky, horny, rhythmless, too-drunk white guys to remind me how glad I was to be with David. You're my favorite.

k