Shenanigans

We got a real sitter (Thanks, Alicia!) and went out for a real grown-up night out last Saturday.  We ended up at The Public House after unsuccessfully trying to drink at Club Jager when they weren't open even though the sign said they were.  We had originally intended to barhop around the North Loop area, grab a couple of pizzas at Black Sheep, and get over to Acme in time for Marc Maron's show.

Black Sheep was a madhouse so we just kept ordering more and more appetizers at The Public House.  The pork belly sliders, hillbilly spring rolls, and frito pie were absolutely amazing.  If you're looking for food that's both highbrow and lowbrow and completely casual, get over there.  They've also got a great beer selection.

Maron killed it with his story of his experience in Minneapolis 12 years ago.  I wasn't sure what to expect at Acme.  It's a lot smaller and more intimate than I ever expected.  It's got kind of a rustic interior going on.  Low ceilings, huge drinks, red curtain.  I had a gin and tonic and two martinis before I left so by the end of the show I was pretty good to go.  I got all drunk-shy and didn't talk to Marc after the show or get my picture taken, but I did leave him a present -- a blue Duplo block Lily had inexplicably given to me earlier that day.  Don't ask -- I don't know why I did that.

A drunken stumble (on my part) and a short car ride later we arrived at Donny Dirk's Zombie Den.  It's a classy joint in a horrible neighborhood and if you go there you should be aware that cabs will not pick you up after about 1:00 AM.  S and I started off with a drink involving absinthe.  It was really strong.  I'm not much of a drinker but I was on some kind of fucked up mission that night to get fucked up.  Husband stuck with beer and H was drinking something called a Kali Ma, which had chai-infused rum and... I have no idea what else, but it was amazing.  So amazing, in fact, that I had four of them.  It wasn't necessarily my idea to have four expensive-as-shit, strong-as-hell specialty drinks -- S kept feeding them to me.  They were so good that at one point I asked the bartender to give me change just so I could give her a second tip.  At the end of the evening we were all pretty trashed and the conversation turned political (I railed off about Ron Paul for what seemed like forever) so we tried calling for a cab.  That's when the sympathetic doorman informed us that cab drivers really, really don't like this neighborhood.  An hour and a short but adventurous walk down to Broadway later we flagged a passing cab down and finally made it back to the sweet embracing cradle of South Minneapolis.

Forgot about the daylight savings time change, woke up at 9:00 AM when I was supposed to be picking Lily up, and drove like a champ to retrieve the child.  I came back home and proceeded to sleep for three or four hours.  As hangovers go, it was a damn cakewalk.  My last hangover was several years ago where I drank much less (demon Jamison), woke up wanting to die, and puked about 10 times over the course of a day.  Interestingly, that evening also ended in the North Loop neighborhood.

All this to say that I am going to be 32 tomorrow and I probably shouldn't do this sort of thing anymore.  Not that I won't.