Saturday Night Part 2 of 3: Hanna and Paige

Bailey is a social retard. When he graduated high school, he tooled around in DJ’ing and partying for a little while before he realized his life was headed in the wrong direction. He found himself installing cable TV with no real aspirations. He soon realized that the military was the way to go for him. He joined up, did his time, kicked ass in school and left with an honorable discharge. The military gave him the discipline he needed to keep pursuing school and when he got out he made a dedicated attempt at getting into an Ivy League school. He did, and that’s how Bailey and I were reunited in New York City.

As you might be able to guess, his life from his late teens to his mid 20’s were spent in a highly institutionalized environment and we all know military ladies aren’t the hottest of the bunch, so when it comes to talking to women, this guy is a moron. He’s got balls and no problem approaching them, but he can’t seem to say what it takes to land a number. Jay and I were determined to change that.

As we headed down to the midtown bar where Jay was having his function, we laid down some ground rules for Bailey.

This guy: “Alright Bailey, we are going to use this function to help you out a little bit. Jay and I are going to wing for you. It will be our mission to make you look good, but you need to know how to play off of us, you need to follow a few simple rules and we should be ok.”

Bailey: “Ok.”

This guy: “first rule is ‘Do not punk your wingmen to make yourself look good.’ If you try to make us look like jack asses, I will flip the script so fast you wont know what to do with yourself. You will instantly be eliminated.”

Bailey: “Ok.”

Jay: “If you are going to talk to a girl and she is with a bunch of people, say hi to the girl first but then be sure introduce yourself to everyone else. Include her friends in the conversation otherwise you will come off as creepy.”

Bailey: “Ok.”

This guy: “DO NOT bring up the Ivy League education unless they ask. It doesn’t have much street cred unless they are interested in it. If you want them to know, you might start by asking them where they go to school and if they ask you back, then you go ahead and tell them, but don’t wear that shit on your sleeve, that’s mad tacky.”

Bailey: “Ok.”

This guy: “Now since we are winging for you, you need to let us do our thing. We will set you up with great stories and good segue’s but you got to take it and run. We can only help so much.

Bailey: “Ok.”

Jay: “The chick’s we are meeting up with will probably not be the hottest girls around but they will make for good practice. So just pick one, let us work the mojo, and you knock em out. Just for practice.”

Bailey: “Alright, I’m gonna work the mojo. I’m excited about this.”

This guy: “One more thing. Please talk like a civilian. Can you do that?”

Bailey: “Check.”

We pull up to the bar and found a parking space. Bailey has been instructed on what to do. He was looking sharp, feeling good, and ready for what lies ahead.

When we get to the bouncer he tells us that there is a drink special going on where we could have unlimited booze for 25 bucks or we could just pay for our drinks as we went.

Jay: “Is that special for well drinks or can we use it for calls?”

Bouncer: “What?”

This guy: “Can we get a Kettle and Cran with this bracelet?”

Bouncer: “No, it’s the generic cheap shit.”

Jay: “Fuck that, how old am I? I’ll pay.”

This guy: “Me too.”

Bailey: “Yah I’ll pay as I go.”

Jay and I don’t drink cheap shit. Not that we are snobs, but we just can’t handle the hang over from cheap booze. Plus there is no feeling like the feeling you get when the first drop of Jack Daniels touches your lips. It’s like being home again. Is that Alcoholism? Whatever, I don’t got time to think about my vices introspectively.

We make it inside and Jay quickly finds his legal ladies. We have spotted them from afar. We make a quick assessment and Jay gives us the signal to have a bathroom meeting. We make a dash for the men’s room.

Jay: “Alright, I spotted my girl but the people she’s with are hideous. That’s what happens when you talk to law bitches that went to a shitty school.”

Jay went to a good school. The chicks at his school were hot (relatively speaking). I would probably be a snob about it too, can you blame him?

This guy: “So fuck it. Who cares? We knew this could be the case, lets just get some drinks and make our way over. “

Bailey: “So plan on?”

This guy: “Yes, this is just practice. The only thing that sucks is that it’s a bit loud out there so talking might be harder, but whatever, do your thing.”

We finish our bathroom meeting and prepare to interface with the legal ladies of lesser learning. Jay walks up, says his hello’s, makes the introductions, and begins to talk. Watching this guy start a conversation and carry it should really be studied by paranormal investigators, because it is fuckin scary how well he does it.

I tap him on the shoulder and ask him what he wants to drink; I take his order and head to the bar with Bailey. Now Jay was spot on when he said these girls were hideous. By god they were. I almost wanted to abort the mission, but this was for the betterment of Bailey. We had to carry on.

I grabbed 2 Jacks on the Rocks and a Goose and Cran for the sissy, I mean Bailey. We headed back over to the party and began the integration effort. I must admit, I gave it a freshman try, I was just not feeling these girls or even anything they had to offer conversation wise. Plus they were doing a pretty good job of ignoring Bailey and I, so we stood back and decided to blend into the background.

I was shocked by what happened next. Jay was holding down a pretty intense conversation and Bailey and I were scanning the room. He spotted a chick standing by the dj booth with a bored look on her face. I had noticed her first, but Bailey commented on her first. He set his sights on her. I, being a nice guy, decided I would help wing for him if the conversation ensued, but told him he had to make it happen.

That he did. The chick by the dj booth motioned to her friend, who was also cute, that she was going to smoke a cigarette. Bailey saw this and took advantage of the situation that presented itself. He grabbed 2 cigarettes, gave one to me, and followed the girls out. He was making a move. I was proud at that moment.

We make it outside and before I have time to reach for my lighter, Bailey is asking them for a light. They light his cigarette, then mine and Bailey starts a conversation.

Bailey: “Thanks for the light, what’s your name?”

“Hanna and this is Paige” she said gesturing to her friend.

I hung out in the background for a minute waiting to see if he would introduce. He did and again I was proud. Bailey had just passed another test. The conversation started up rather quickly and I would like to say it was because Bailey had some hidden secret power, but it was mostly because Hanna, the girl we spotted by the DJ booth, was drunk as hell.

Bailey: “So where are you guys from, you from around here?”

Not such a good opener, but it’ll do.

Hanna: “No, we are from New Jersey. Paige is from… is from Hoboken but I’m from the shore. Like the shore shore.”

Holy crap she was drunk.

Paige looks at me and mouths the words “she has had a lot to drink.” I give her a wink and kinda laugh it off.

This guy: “So you live in Hobroken, huh?” (purposely mispronounced)

Paige: “Yah, I like it.”

This guy: “It’s a little bit of a voyage what are you doing out here?”

Paige: “Well its not really that far, it only takes me 20 minutes to get here. But I’m out here because I work here.”

This guy: “Oh yeah? What do you do?”

Paige: “I handle the events and do the party planning and so forth.”

This guy: “Ahh, so you’re the one I need to know. That’s cool. Well we are having fun so your doing a great job.”

Paige: “Thanks, tonight is crazy cause I got Hanna here with me. She doesn’t come to the city so often so I try to take her out, but working and keeping track of her is hard.”

The whole time I was talking with Paige, Bailey was talking with Hanna. I didn’t get to overhear much of it, but from the sounds of things he was still holding a conversation, I decided to rejoin them.

Hanna: “…Colorado. I love it there so much, but I haven’t gone in a long time.”

This guy: “Hey Bailey, didn’t you used to live in Colorado?”

Bailey: “Yes, I just said that like 2 seconds ago.”

This guy: “Oh sorry, I walked in at the tail end.”

Hanna: “Yes, you did, but like I was saying… I was saying that I love Colorado. It’s so pretty and nice and the mountains and the air. But I love it.”

Jesus she was trashed.

Paige: “Hey Hanna, I have to go inside to take pictures of the party, I’ll be back.”

Hanna: “Wait, lets take a picture of ourselves.”

This guy: “Here, let me take the picture, you guys go ahead and get together.”

Paige hands me the camera, I stand back, frame them up, and snap the picture. It came out cute. All was going well.

Bailey: “Here take a picture of us.”

TAKE A PICTURE OF WHAT? WHY? Why would we impose that on them? If they wanted a picture they would have asked. Feeling somewhat retarded, I stood next to Bailey, gave my cheesiest smile, and waited for the picture to be snapped.

This guy: “Cheese.”

The picture is taken and we are forever immortalized (until she deletes it from her cameral to make more room for better pictures) in her digital camera.

This guy: “I probably closed my eyes. I’m notorious for having my eyes shut in pictures.”

Hanna: “Me too. Oh my god… no… oh my god, every time, every time someone takes a picture of me, I just know when its going to flash and my eyes automatically close.”

This guy: “I know exactly what you mean; I have fucken spider sense for flash bulbs.”

Hanna: “Me too. Yes, I know what you mean. Yes.”

This guy: “We’ll let’s see how sharp your sense is; let me take a picture of you…”

Here we go again. I busted out my trusty picture phone and framed her up in the shot. I couldn’t believe I was using this old trick again, but why not, it has like a 98% success rate. I snapped the picture. She was very photogenic. I mean she took really pretty pictures.

This guy: “Look your picture came out perfect!”

Hanna: “That never happens.”

This guy: “Well let me send it to you so that you have proof that you can take pictures with your eyes open. What’s your phone number? I’ll send it to your phone.”

She begins to recite her number when I notice Bailey grillin me. I look over at him and realized I was stepping on his game. I had to take evasive action.

This guy: “Better yet, why don’t I send it to your email address. That way you can save it onto your computer when you get home.”

Hanna: “Ok, sure. Ok…sure.”

She gives me her email address and I send it off to her email. Bailey stops grillin me and we continue.

This guy: “So what do you do down by the shore Hanna?”

Hanna: “I’m a third grade art teacher.”

Bailey: “So you’re like the hot teacher huh?”

Hanna: “Yes I guess I am. No, it’s funny because someone wrote ‘Miss Hanna is hot’ on the bathroom wall and the kids asked me about it.”

This guy: “What did you say?”

Hanna: “I told them that it wasn’t nice, that it was not nice to write things about people on bathroom walls.”

By this point Jay noticed that we were not around and decided to investigate. He showed up outside and right behind him followed Paige making her return.

Paige: “You guys are still out here, huh?”

This guy: “We were just about to go in to get a drink, but Jay just showed up. Jay this is Paige, Paige this is Jay. That over there, that’s Hanna talking to Bailey.”

Like a true conversationalist, Jay launched into a conversation with Paige. Suddenly everyone was carrying a different conversation. I went back over by Hanna and Bailey.

Hanna: “… so I am Jamaican.”

This guy: “What?”

Hanna: “Well my grandfathers father helped build the panama canal, but then he moved to Jamaica and married a Jamaican woman. They had my grandfather and then he married a white woman and they had my father, so I’m part Jamaican.”

This was the whitest girl I have ever seen in my life, but ok. I decided that conversation was too much for me to care about and went back to Jay’s conversation with Paige. We discovered that she was Lebanese and that she was, in fact, a pretty cool person to know.

By this point we had spent a lot of time outside talking to these 2 girls so I decided it was time to break it up a little just so that we didn’t seem over eager.

This guy: “Jay lets go get those drinks.”

This was a good stopping point for the night. Paige grabbed Hanna and went inside, we grabbed Bailey and went in as well. So far Bailey had done a great job of keeping a conversation with a drunk chick, but now it was time to bring the party back inside.

We went in, walked up to the bar and picked up some more drinks. Jay and I got our usual Jack on the rocks but Bailey, fresh off his talk-to-chick high, decided on a Goose on the rocks. Our little boy grew some balls. Maybe his balls grew too big though because the rest of the night doesn’t go so smooth.

We run into Hanna and Paige again inside the bar by the dance floor. Paige takes the opportunity to drop Hanna off with us so that we can baby-sit her while she finishes up on some work she has to do.

Hanna: “I want to go out dancing. Like I want to dance. I don’t want to be in this place anymore. You guys are going to come with us right?”

Bailey: “Sure, we can hang with you guys.”

Hanna: “Great because I want to leave this place. I want to shake my booty. This place sucks.”

I look over at Jay and Bailey and remind them about our plans to head back up to the upper west side to hook up with Missy.

This guy: “Yo, she is way too drunk right now. They should probably just go home. We can probably have a better time in the upper west side.”

I said that rather selfishly because really it meant I would have a better time, but who cares.

Bailey: “Yah your right. Well let’s see how it goes.

Jay: “I’m down for whatever.”

We kill a few minutes dancing with Hanna and finish our drinks. Just as we are about to leave, Hanna asks us to go for another smoke with her. Paige finds us leaving and exits with us. We all gather outside the bar, light up our smokes, and try to figure out what the next move is going to be.

Bailey finally realized that Hanna was way too drunk and that it would be a better bet to head up town. Paige looked as if she was ready to go home as well so it was definitely a better move to part ways. There was only one thing left to do. Bailey needed to get a number. That was the plan, that was the objective, and that’s what he had to do.

Hanna: “So where are we going now?”

Bailey: “Well we are actually thinking of going to the upper west side.”

Hanna: “Why would you go up there? That’s far.”

Bailey: “I go to school there and I live there.”

Uh oh, a red flag went up. I hope he is not trying the Ivy League thing.

Hanna: “Isn’t that by Harlem, I hate that area.”

Jay: “Well actually it’s Morning Side Heights. It went through assimilation, sorry I mean gentrification, and it’s really a nice area now.”

Bailey: “Look at this guy trying to bust out the Ivy League education using big words… and he didn’t even go to an Ivy League.”

Oh shit he’s going there. I fuckin warned him and now he’s going there. He is forcing the Ivy League issue to regain control of the conversation and he is punking one of his wingmen. The booze must have gotten to him because he is violating all kinds of rules.

Jay stops what he is saying, looks over at Bailey, gives him a hard look, then turns back to Hanna and continues his conversation. Jay spared his life. Did Bailey recognize the errors of his ways? No.
Bailey: “See I go to Columbia, I am allowed to use big words like that.”

I turn to Hanna and say: “Look at this guy. Going to Columbia for 3 weeks and so far he’s learned the meaning of assimilation and gentrification.”

Hanna starts cracking up. Sorry readers; had to do it. Jay spared him his life; I am not so forgiving when it comes to such clear violations of the wing man treaty.

Bailey: “What school do you go to?” He says looking to Hanna.

Hanna: “What are you talking about? I graduated college like 5 years ago. Anyway, I think it’s gay that you guys are going way up there when you can come out dancing with us.”

Shot down again. Bailey was sinking fast.

Jay: “That’s just where the night is taking us. Listen we can tell you some cool places to hit, but we really got to make our way back up there.”

This guy: “There’s a cool spot on Delancy and Bowry. It’s near by, close to the Holland tunnel, it should be a quick ride home for you guys from there.”

Paige: “Yah, we might do that. Hanna is a little bit of a handful right now though so I’m not sure how it will play out.”

I pull Paige aside.

This guy: “Listen, your friend is real trashed right now. You guys should just go home. You need to take care of your girl she’s in no condition to party right now.”

Paige: “Yah your right, we probably will just go home, but I have to tell her we are going to a club before she gets into the car.”

This guy: “Cool, well we are going to split, so we’ll see you here again right?”

Paige: “Yah, next Thursday we have another happy hour you should come.”

This guy: “We’re there.”

I return to the group just in time to witness Bailey’s deconstruction.

Bailey: “Check it; we can’t make it out tonight, but how about this? Next time you’re in town we’ll take you out. What’s your number?”

Why in the world would you ask for a number there? If you are going to leave it up to the next time she is in town, then she should have your number, because we are putting the ball in her court. Right? Bailey hadn’t considered that.

Hanna: “No. I’m not giving you my number. I don’t give out my number.”

If you remember correctly, I believe she was going to give me her number 4 minutes after meeting her when Bailey started grilling me. But I digress…

Bailey: “Ok, how about your email?”

Hanna: “I’ll give you that, but that’s gay. You should just come out with us tonight.”

Bailey: “Ok, forget it then.”

This guy: “Listen, take down her email, we’ll exchange info, and we’ll hang again some time. Plus we got that happy hour on Thursday right Paige?

Paige: “Right.”

Bailey finally extracts the information from Hanna and we part ways. It was ugly but she gave up her email address and he promised he would email her. As we began our walk back to the car we started to critique Baileys performance.

Jay: “Overall I’d say you did great for your first lesson. I was impressed.”

This guy: “Impressive yes, good start. You saw something, you went for it and you got a great conversation out of it. But you violated some rules man. The Ivy League thing backfired like I told you it would. You punked Jay and that backfired, and lastly this girl gave you lots of open windows and opportunities to run game and you kinda just let them pass you by.”

Bailey: “Well I thought I did a satisfactory job. Mission accomplished?

This guy: “For tonight, yes, but you still need some work.”

We hopped in the car and started making our way back to the upper west side. This would probably have been a good stopping point for this incredibly long story, but it can’t stop here. Bailey had one last lesson to learn before we were back at Missy’s bar.

This guy: “Alright man, you got to email her tonight.”

Bailey: “Negative, she lives in Jersey; do you really think it’s worth it?”

Jay: “Yes man, do it, you got nothing to lose.”

This guy: “For real Bailey, the worst that could happen is nothing. The best that could happen is that she writes you back. So fuck it. Just write her an email.”

Bailey: “I don’t know, I guess I will.”

This guy: “Look, if you don’t email her, I will.”

Bailey: “Alright, I will. It’s clear there is no man code in this car.”

As if in Sterero, Jay and I simultaneously say: “Man code?”

This guy: “Yo what? What are you talking about man code?”
Bailey: “Well when I go out with my college buddies we follow a code. You never creep up on a girl that your boy called dibs on.”

Dibs? How old are we again? Do people still call dibs?

This guy: “Are you kidding me? What’s to stop me from walking into a bar and calling dibs around the house?”

Jay: “Yah, that is ridiculous. We don’t apply that gay ass man code you talk about because it’s some teenager shit to do. We prefer the utilitarian approach. We do what ever is best for the team. The only code we follow is that we don’t creep up on your boy’s exes, but new bitches? That’s fair game.”

This guy: “Yah man, how arrogant is it that we actually think we can influence who a girl likes. The truth is, the guy never gets to pick the girl, the girl always picks the guy. Our job is to make ourselves available and presentable and let her decide. If you call dibs and she is into me, we all lose. You don’t get none and neither do I. “

Bailey: “I understand what you guys are saying, but I still think there is some value to the man code.”

Jay: “Look take your gay little man code to your Columbia boyfriends, but when you’re with us, son, we’re strictly utilitarian.”

Bailey: “10-4”

This guy: “Just curious, when you hang with your Columbia crew, does the dibs thing ever work?”

Bailey: “Yah, we went to a bar one time and my boy called dibs on this chick. He ended up taking her home.”

This guy: “Did you find her attractive?”

Bailey: “No.”

Jay: “That’s why your gay shit works. Cause you guys all have such varying tastes that you will never overlap. If that’s the case, it’s pointless to call dibs in the first place.”

Bailey: “Yah you’re probably right.”

This guy: “He is.”


I think we were finally teaching Bailey how to be a man. Showing him a little about real life and not this idealistic, dibs calling, sex in the city type shit that people that first move to New York imagine. He committed to writing Hanna an email and we were now headed back to Missy’s joint. It was 1:45AM and I was just about half way through what would prove to be a long long night.


Stay tuned for part 3, where we return to Missy’s bar, find out a little more about her and her situation, and I manage to get myself into one very interesting situation.