It was TGIF. Time for happy hour you ask? Yes, but I was invited to attend a concert at Anthem in Washington, DC. It was a concert performed by Meghan Trainor. I didn’t even know who she was but was too delighted to refuse. It would have been nice if the weather cooperated but didn’t. My friend and I had to tote umbrellas for it drizzled. Thinking that the Metro trains would be preferable to driving during the rush-hour, we got off at L’Enfant station and walked to the wharf. Thankfully the weather was milder than expected, and we decided to ignore the rain. We were determined to have a great time and even thought of singing in the rain.

Since we were early, we went for happy hour and to get a bite to eat at Del Mar, a tapas bar/restaurant. The circular bar was filled with impressive poseurs and tourists. I suppose that we didn’t fit into any category since we were neither tourists nor poseurs. Feeling the need for some booze, I quickly asked for a drink. I was planning to order my usual, the “gin and tonic,” but the bartender was adamant that we follow his recommendation. What could we do but comply? Of course, the bartenders would push for something that costs so steep that you may have to sell your liver to afford it. However, we agreed, and the lovely drinks were indeed delicious. In truth, I would have been glad of anything that contained alcohol, but it was a nice change to order something fancy so that I could feel as if I was part of the poseurs as well.

Once the effect of the alcohol went to my head, I started to scan the crowd a little more thoroughly. I wasn’t impressed by the crowd until I saw a dark and handsome man across me, which made me wish that I had brought my friend L who adores good-looking man (well, who doesn’t, but since she’s so lovely, she can’t help being particular). He was busy conversing with his friends, but I saw that he nonchalantly glanced in my direction. The glance was ever so slight that it would make you think that it was a mere chance, but I had to smile because the nonchalant glances occurred frequently. Soon, I was having a bit of fun by glancing in his direction to see how many of his indifferent glances I could receive, and when I did catch him turn in my direction, I could not prevent from smiling out of mirth. Did we go to bars to play the game of pretentious glances? And why do we play? I think perhaps we are programmed to desire the indirect approaches. Instead of, “I want to ‘rut’ with you,” we may prefer to hear, “You look ravishing tonight.”

If deciding to eat at Del Mar, try the calamari; it was cooked perfectly for we didn’t feel like we were chewing on rubber, and it was served with scary-looking ink sauce, which tasted good anyway. It was a pity that it was not Halloween. And if you feel like that you have a ravenous beggar housing in your stomach, order the lambs, which were served with heavy cream sauce. I slathered the meat with the sauce and decided to forget about dieting. Once finished with the meal, I made sure to visit the restroom so that I could nonchalantly pass by the “hottie.” When my friend asked, “Did you give the guy a chance to see you?”

“Oh, he couldn’t have missed seeing me.” We both laughed heartily. The night was young and we were having fun already.

Finally, we were herded into Anthem theatre. It was vast with concrete flooring, which made me glad that I wore comfy boots. Unfortunately, there were no coat check-in rooms, so I had to drape my coat around my waist as if it were a sarong. Soon, a male singer with a leather jacket came onto the stage. We hooted and clapped and fell into excitement. It’s hard not to get excited when a buff guy comes on stage wearing a sexy leather jacket. During a short break, I took the chance to grab ourselves more alcoholic beverages. Then something green came onto the stage, and I thought it was a green lizard. However, it was another male singer wearing a lime-green jacket. The singer’s name was MAX (he liked it all caps). I never heard of him either but recognized his songs once he started to sing. I screamed out shamelessly as MAX twirled and danced around on stage. He soon changed himself into a banana-looking attire by wearing a yellow jacket. Like a possessed woman, I screamed. My hips were shaking so much that my makeshift sarong was falling. We were so giddy from the booze and the music that we made friends with our neighbors. Of course, it wasn’t just all fun, there was a violent incident between two people who fought to make the concert dangerous and thus made it more exciting. I mean, you want to go home with a black-eye so that you can have mementos of your exciting evening.

By the time Meghan Trainor came on stage, we were ready to leave to beat the crowd. After hearing a couple of her songs, we dashed out of Anthem theatre. And of course, T recommended that we get more drunk before we went home, so we hunted down another bar to get drinks and more food. My throat was so hoarse from screaming that drinks and food sounded great. I insisted that we order fries because it soaked up all the alcohol. Really, I was glad that I wasn’t on a diet.

Eventually, we decided to leave before the Metro station closed. It was close to one in the morning, but we discovered that the Metro was not empty of people. By the time we got to my car, T brazenly recommended that we grab some breakfast. It’s great to have a girlfriend who could drink and eat like no one else. It’s no wonder that our friend L called us the two skinny “bitches.”

T recommended Yechon, a Korean restaurant, in Annandale. The place was open twenty-four hours. Kind of amazing knowing that even the cockroaches couldn’t get a chance to sleep at this restaurant. T insisted that the soups at this restaurant could cure any hangovers, so we ordered two types of soup. Shockingly, T wanted to order a bottle of Soju after consuming so much booze all evening and night. She made me proud. However, I reminded her that we wanted to fix our hangovers and not cause another one. I promised her that we would return so that we could finish many bottles of Soju. Yes, it’s great having a friend who could drink as well as I do. It’s no wonder we are pals.

Unfortunately, the soup bowls were huge, and I could not finish it. The stomachs of the Koreans are vast since they could gobble a vat of soup like that. Thankfully, the waiter packed the soup for me. I was all smiles. I had early breakfast and could take dinner with me. With our stomachs crying out, due to overindulging, we drove back home. Since T was going to sleep at my place, I offered a fresh toothbrush but discovered that she carried her own toothbrush in her bag. I was going to say, “You are hired!” How could you not love a woman like that? Soon, I curled up on my tiny couch propped with pillows thanks to my rebelling stomach and gave my bed to T. We were soon asleep like the tired Twelve Dancing Princesses. I reminded myself to corrupt more friends by dragging them to Anthem soon. After all, what are friends for?