The Search For Reggie

This morning I felt like crap. I could barely drink water, let alone, eat (Well, for lunch I managed to eat a roll and felt good about it....talk about a well-balanced meal). I just wanted to curl up in the fetal position and sleep. But, unfortunately, I am now in the real world, and today was a work day, so I had to suck it up and go to work. How, might you ask, did I get this way on such a lovely hump day morning?? Great friends who are up for anything, Reggie Bush, and...ultimately, poor decisions. If I was still in college this would have been one of those mornings when even though I woke up feeling horrible, I would remember the night, laugh, share stories, and the pain would have been totally worth it. Unfortunately, I think I might be too old for this shit.

At around 8:40 last night, my two friends came over and we started a power hour. Yep, that's right, at 8:40 p.m...on a Tuesday, we decided to partake in the fun musical drinking game that is often debilitating to most frequent drinkers (I am barely an occasional drinker. Hello first sign of trouble). Since my plans to go to the movies were postponed, and despite multiple attempts at stalking down Reggie Bush in DC (using twitter and every club manager/bouncer connection they have) failed for them, we were left bored, and together. Enough beers later (I get nauseous even thinking about counting them), we needed to go out and there was hope that one of their connections would come through to find Reggie. I got myself more presentable (a little make up did the trick), and we stumbled down the stairs. Our first stop was a bar in Chinatown. It was cold out, and we didn't much feel like walking, so when we walked past a stretch limo waiting around for a client (unfortunately NOT Reggie) my friends did their usual sweet talking and got us a ride. Talk about ROLLING up in STYLE.

The next part of the night was not as funny (despite a very hilariously random conversation with our new Asian friend about the Asian size rumor that HE initiated), and unintelligently, it also involved more drinks. A few hours (I think?) later, my friend finally received the location of where to find Reggie, and we jumped into a cab immediately. Since you know I am all about the stalkage and random life adventures, I was down 100 % to support my friend's mission to find her future husband. We arrived at this bar/club, and let me just say, our group stood out like the middle of an Oreo cookie (OK, just warning you, this is all going to sound completely un-PC but there is no other way to put it). They made us check our coats (at a $5 charge) and would not let us wear them. Since I was cold, this pissed me off, but I quickly realized in an establishment (fancy word for creepy place) such as this one, the coats could have been used to hide weapons, or even drugs. Maybe the coat check was for my own safety and I consider that a 5 dollar donation to protecting my life. Suffice it to say, this experience was fantastic, and awkward, all at once. The last time I had stood out somewhere that much was in Tokyo, and with the group, it felt like we showed up at the East Compton school in Bring It On to try and make peace. We did bring it though.

In the end, since you are probably curious, we did not find Reggie, but we sure as hell found lots of look-a-likes. Seriously, post-power hour and completely out of place, every guy at that bar looked like him. Good thing I ignored my urge to ask random men if they were Reggie Bush (I might have been killed for this) and instead phone stalked many of my speed-dial "favorites" who unknowingly saved me (almost as much as the coat check). Oh well, we lack the Kim Kardashian ass to impress anyway.

Side note, I just heard this song and it is hilarious. I suggest you listen to Luda make fun of Tiger Woods, and Sexting. It is AMAZING: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oEZbKsPsfgw&feature=related.