I’m only going to dinner. Seriously…

Us girls from work (and formerly from our office) has another get-together at a sushi place called Izumi Sushi in the West Loop on Friday.  I was going into my third packed night of socializing and drinking.  So I took the metra downtown on Friday with plans only to go have a few drinks, enjoy a good meal, and head home.  Which would have made Saturday absolutely lovely and somewhat productive.

Thanks Cathryn.

A Philly roll and a few glasses of wine later, people were not having it.  They grabbed my bag away from me and insisted I stay.  So my bag-o-stuff got thrown into Jessica’s car (because of course it wasn’t THAT hard to convince me to stay) and off we went.  We started our hike to Market Bar and, lo and behold, found ourselves approaching Harpo Studios.  Why hello Oprah- not only did I hang out a few drinks too many outside of where she supposedly lives, now I’m stalking her at the workplace.  Both times completely by accident.  Ok, maybe it’s some underlying infatuation.  Either way, the conversation switched to how much we all wish we could get onto her Favorite Things episode.  I really wouldn’t mind a new car.  Or iPod.  Or cash.  Just give me some cash, Oprah…

Market Bar ended up being a no-go.  It was too packed for our liking, so we hung out at a table they were serving on the sidewalk.  Next destination- The District.  A guy in our office was celebrating his birthday, and we all thought it sounded like a good bar to go to.  In my opinion, we were mistaken.  It was packed, people were rude, and drinks were overpriced for the atmosphere I was in.  Sure, I’ll pay $10 (which it better be a good drink) for a drink to hang out in a fun place with good friends.  But by the time we fought our way to the bar, fought our way back to the table, and fought to keep a decent conversation over the noise and constant interruption of people bumping into us and passing through, I was ready to leave. 

Some of us had contacted another group of guys from work earlier to see if they’d join us at The District, but they decided to stay put at The Pony Inn in Lakeview.  So I convinced Cathryn we should join them there.  What did we have to lose?  It was close to Cathryn’s apartment, it couldn’t have been much worse, and if anything, it was in an area with plenty of other late night options.  She agreed and it took everything I had but to run out of the place to grab a cab.

Rob’s directions got us to the right block.  But that’s about it.  We would have been screwed if the bar didn’t have a huge lit-up (practically flashing) sign.  It might as well have had a speaker, too.  “Why hello drunk people, come join us and get ridiculous.”  We walk in to the announcement of last call.  The night really must have gotten away from us…  But we got another good 20 minutes there until they started kicking people out.

Rob suggested our next stop be Big City Tap.  My eyes widened a little bit on that one- Big City is the place where people tend to flock after all the other bars start closing.  If you can still manage to walk in a somewhat straight line and aren’t ready to crawl home, that’s apparently where you go.  Was it really going to be that kind of night?  Cathryn was in dance mode, so I knew it would be…

Five of us piled into a cab and were again on our way.  Maybe that’s where most of my night went- time spent in cabs.  Makes sense.  We got there, and like clowns in a car, we all filed out.  I dropped my new camera on the way out.  Cathryn’s shoe strap broke.  But that didn’t stop us.  Alex and I checked to make sure the essentials (aka the camera battery) were still there.  Cathryn showed her talent in walking with one bum shoe (you would have never known it could have flied off at any moment).  Cathryn also pulled out another talent- talking her way into anything.  Four of us were still re-establishing ourselves and assessing the long line as she marched across that busy street to the bar on the other side.  “What the hell is she doing?!?!?”  She walked straight up to that side door and took all of 20 seconds to get us inside.  No waiting required.  I don’t even think she knows what she said to get us in.

Big City was packed.  Hence the line.  But the difference between Big City and The District is this- The District is not that kind of bar.  It gives off the “lounge” atmosphere.  It closes earlier.  Big City is a drunken man’s haven.  Everyone and their mom wants to get into this place at 3:00 to continue to get their drink on and dance.  Crowds, elevated temperatures, and drunk people are expected.  And welcomed.  Not sure why there isn’t a sign on the door stating this fact.  If only they had a suggestion box…

Cathryn darted into the crowd without saying a thing.  The guys got a little nervous.  But I knew where she was and had no concerns.  She was on the dance floor.  And we would soon join her.  And we did.  Until we had to leave at 4:00 a.m.  Two whole hours of dancing and sweating (gross but true).  I still think it’s funny how heavily Michael Jackson is played.  I know we heard at least three of his songs while we were there.  Again, not that I mind.  I’m just amused.

After that place closed, back in the cab we went.  This time to go home.  Or at least, in my case, to crash at Cathryn’s.  And wouldn’t you know it?  I didn’t wake up until 11:00 that morning.  THAT is a momentous occasion.  For me, “sleeping late” is 9:00.  Maybe 9:30.  And that’s on a good day.  I guess the last three nights caught up with me.  Cathryn wanted to do breakfast somewhere.  I was all over that idea.  Omelet… yum…  We had two choices – Orange or Horizon Cafe.  I looked at myself in the mirror.  Then I looked at Cathryn. 

“Which one will we not look extremely inappropriate in?”

“Horizon Cafe it is.”

I felt ok there- the majority of people there looked like they were feeling about the same as we did.  Sunglasses on inside.  Downing coffee to cure exhaustion and a headache.  Some still a little intoxicated from the night before.  Perfect.  I had my standard bacon mushroom omelet- which grosses Cathryn out to no end.  She refuses to eat bacon and/or mushrooms.  At least I know she won’t eat off of my plate.

We found ourselves in the same position as we were about a month ago after eating- in a race to the Irving Park metra stop to see if I could make the train.  I watched the clock the whole way, almost positive I wouldn’t and would end up hanging out for an hour.  Which may have been a problem being as tired as I was.  Luckily, the train was running late.  And I got on and made it home by 1:30.  Just in time to collapse on my couch…

Needless to say, I was worthless the rest of Saturday.  And that spilled over into Sunday.  At least I did get up long enough on Saturday evening to hit up a movie with Annie.  We saw The Time Traveler’s Wife.  It was good.  I love Rachel McAdams.  And no one minds a nude Eric Bana.  But I really expected more…  Oh well.  It was still a fun little movie date with one of my favorite ladies. 

Now, the question remains… Who’s the bad influence in this situation?  And how do we always end up at the same place?  And how can we do it by spending less and not feeling so exhausted the next day?  An answer to any of these questions would be appreciated.