Forever Young

The title has nothing to do with this post, but it's the song I'm jamming to. So what if I use it as a lil pump up music every so often? Gotta keep the mind young and fresh ya know? For. For-ev-er young!

Alright. Anyway. Hi. My name is Ashley and I'm a townie regular. "Hiiiii Ashley" < that's what you all say. So it's official. It is officially official. I'm a regular, and the realization happened Wednesday night. That's right. The Wednesday before Thanksgiving. Let me take you to the beginning of the night.

It just so happens that my roommate and I both landed ourselves in town for the holidays with no where to go. I do not let the fact that I will be alone for Thanksgiving get to me. I simply state to my roommate that it's basically the best night of the year to go out (unless you're single and then the best night is Valentine's Day). She replies "so we should probably go out right?" To which I reply, "Yeaaaa. Probably." But really in my head I'm all like we're soooo gonna crash all these high school reunions and find ourselves some Westchestaaaah boys. Like das sit!

We mosey on down the strip to get some sushi because girl don't got game when she's hangry. Roll into the sushi joint. Bahhaha no pun intended. Refusing to delete that line because it got me laughing. Anyway back to rolling into the sushi joint. The hostess, the waiter, the manager all greet me as if I'm their #1 customer. Talk about service! One of the managers stops over and asks me where I have been. I tell him not to worry, we'll be back next week for the roommate's birthday. The roommate takes the opportunity to ask for a reservation. The manager then tells us that they don't make reservations but proceeds to ask us how many and what time. We give him the deets and low and behold... he puts our name down for a reso next week. Heyooooo. #regular

After drinking a couple of dranks, eating some sushi rolls, and witnessing somebody lighting her hair on fire (careful folks. This is a classy establishment and we don't use battery operated candles!), we move to the next joint to find our Westchesta fellas. The good thing about the next place? I have a 50 year old Irish bartender in love with me. If this were Tinder, I would definitely say he falls outside of my age requirements but he makes some good drinks so we'll stay friendly with the Irish bro.

My roommate and I enter the bar and uh oh... panic! There are no seats! So we do a lil walk around and all of a sudden I hear my name being shouted from across the bar. "Ashley! Don't pretend I didn't see you the moment you walked in! Don't ignore me!" Oh boy. My Irish bartender has found me. I'm not going to pass up this opportunity. I am a smart girl after all. "I'm not ignoring you! I'm trying to find a seat!" Cue the knight in shining armor music. He comes out from behind the bar. Makes a guy move his coats and  gets us two seats at the bar. Before he goes I get a big ol' kiss on the cheek. Small price to pay for some prime real estate on THE BEST BAR NIGHT OF THE YEAR. My Irish bartender tells us that "Sweet Randy" will be taking care of us tonight. #regulars

We chat it up with "Sweet Randy," who has been a bartender on the strip for 10 years. He politely tells my roommate and I that he recognizes us. Doh! Can't win em all I guess. Fer sure sign that we're regulars.

The night proceeds. All par to the course really. Have a minor altercation with the bro who had to move his coat. Sorry not sorry bro! Not my fault the bartender would rather have us sitting at the bar than you. You'll be ok. We exit the bar relatively early because we had the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade the next morning! Sprint home. Quick Sleep. Parade. Parade. Parade. Annnnd scene.