Two Three nights in a row!
One of my favorite lines from one of my favorite episodes of one of my favorite shows is this exchange from the second episode of Cougar Town:
After going out on the town for a wild and crazy Friday night but then finding herself too sore and exhausted to go out Saturday, a rather depressed Jules asks her BFF Ellie, "I'm never gonna have my 20s again, am I?"
"Of course you are," Ellie answers. "But just not two nights in a row."
That kind of sums up my attempts to have a social life in the midst of working early mornings during the week and the overnight shift on Saturdays.
But last week, while I was in Arizona for #ChrisAmandaWedding, I went out on Mill Avenue not just two but three nights in a row, and I lived to tell the tale.
On Thursday night, Chris' bachelor party started out at a wine bar in north-ish Phoenix but eventually migrated to Mill Avenue, where we frequented Slices, the Tavern and Cue Club:
Then, after the rehearsal dinner on Friday night, I met up with some very special lady friends. We headed over to Cherry, a borderline-sketch dance club on Mill where we attempted to dance our asses off in honor of Justine, who moved back to Maryland on Sunday.
Sadly, the Friday night DJ kinda blew, so good danceable tracks were hard to come by. But we still had a good time:
By this point, I was marveling at how it felt like I was back in college again for the weekend. And this time around, I was able to hit up Mill Avenue without the worries of classes and work looming large just on the other side of University Drive.
And as if reliving my (early) 20s Courteney Cox-style two nights in a row wasn't enough, on Saturday night after the wedding and reception, there was talk of some of the wedding party and other attendees going out on the town. I got involved in the plans, which were quickly made for... yep, Mill Avenue.
So we all went our separate ways to freshen up and/or eat Filiberto's and then we descended down into the basement that is the Big Bang.
Alisa, one of the bridesmaids, and her friends were kinda wary of the place, saying that there's a piano bar they know of in Chicago that mostly just plays host to "trashy bachelorette parties." But Mike, the best man, vouched for the Big Bang since he had been there before, so we decided to give it a go.
No sooner had we walked in and paid the cover when we spied, of course, a bachelorette party... but at least it wasn't trashy. Oh wait. Just then, the pianists were just finishing up "Great Balls of Fire," and one of them got up and lit his balls on fire. Great.
Since a good portion of the crew was interested in shaking their groove thangs, we decided to pay a visit to Cherry and crossed our fingers, hoping that the suckage of the previous night's DJ would not be repeated. Luckily, there was a new DJ on the turntables MacBook, and the music didn't disappoint.
And thus, I shook free from the bonds of living in a cougar town and managed to go out in my old college town three nights in a row — and without any major hangovers. Granted, I didn't emerge completely unscathed. I do have some leftover jankiness in my knees that has persisted since I shook my groove thang perhaps a little too hard on the Cherry dance floor one (well, actually both) of those nights, but it's so worth it.