You know that wasted person on a night out, who you can observe through the escalating levels of buffoonery? And you sort of feel sorry for them, but also are secretly excited that you have built-in entertainment for the night? That was me on Saturday. I was the ass. Here is the conversation Bryan and I had Sunday:
Bryan: You were a little out of control last night.
Yael: Why didn’t you reign me in?
Bryan: You drank an entire bottle of champagne. There was no reasoning with you.
Yael: Oh. So maybe next time no dirty dancing with strangers?
Our friends from New York, Erica & Sam, have been in and out of London the past couple weeks for work and vacation. They know some other Americans in London, including Erica’s sister, and our other NY friends, Kara & Fabio, were also here this weekend. It’s been a great time.
Saturday we all celebrated Erica’s birthday at Floridita: an awesome place that is supposed to transport you to Cuba, replete with big Havana-style band dancing. I definitely had some Ricky Ricardo Tropicana Club moments. We decided to go out afterwards to Sketch, a place so delightfully bizarrely and perfectly strange, that even its website scares me. Seriously. It had a superrad DJ and bathrooms contained in huge egg pods, a la Mork & Mindy, that were even featured in Time Out mag as one of London’s best loos.
Sunday, I thought my hangover subsided at our delicious brunch at one of our favorite restaurants, Automat (because their hamburgers are made with American beef), but in between that and us all going to see “Where in the World is Osama Bin Laden”, I had to go home and um, get less hungover. I definitely have to re-evaluate whether I am fit to spawn children into the world.
In the meantime, some pics.
It all started off okay at the Prince Regent
The big plug…AT NIGHT!