TPW Happy Hour

Be afraid DC. Tomorrow night is another TPW happy hour. They are incredulously and infamously famous. It usually takes place at a classy type joint, hence tomorrow night I'll be at Old Ebbit Grill, no later then 5pm in the Corner Bar. No expense is too expensive. I'm am talking about clams, oysters, artichoke dip, and did I mention oysters? I'm tlaking about grey goose and tonic, McCullen 12 on the rocks, Blue label, fine young 18 year-old Toulous and well, my personal favorite, Jack Daniels - maybe Gentleman Jack. Microbrews gulps by lawyers in Gucci loafers and Polo blazers. Some of the most famous ones recapped:

1. I was talking to Managing partner about woman, because he use to be and still is quiet the charmed player, but he's married with a troop of kids with a beautiful wife, if I might add. So he lives vicariously through us younger folk who are still stumbling blindly around in this awkward, exciting and torrential...sometimes absolutely arrid love life. This happen to be a point in my life where things were actually in between torrential and arrid. The girls were there and would call to see what I was doing this weekend, there were e-mails back and forth with other girls. That's the way things go, anyway. So I wasn't so much talking to Managing partner about girls, but he was asking me about girls. I'm not sure how the conversation actually went after four shots of So-Co and lime and a lemon drop, but he ended up explaining how his brother would get rid of one night stands or girls he really just wanted to sleep with. Not so much a Coyote Ugly thing, but a more "hey, I conquered you, so move on." His brother would apparrently light a cigarette, look at the girl and say, "Hey that was fun, don't you think it's time you got going." Before long he was naming certain attorney's in our office tripod, starting calling me a strapping young man, and eventually did another shot and toasting (his exact words) "Here is to you all MOther Fuckers!"

2. I got rediculously wasted at one Happy hour with JoJo, the other paralegal at the time and our receptionist and one of the secretaries. We all ended up going to CVS and buying loads of toliet paper and decided to toilet paper the office. We loaded all the partner's offices, certain attorney's offices and went to town on the lobby. The security guard was nothing more then amused. Not only did I not get fired the next day. There were certain attorney's who were upset we had not toilet paper their offices. And the ones we did toilet paper, were too hung over to clean it up, and so ended up working all day in a world of generic, white, CVS butt tissue.

3. Another Happy Hour had one of our Attorney's hook up with the summer intern, who by the way, was one of our clients daughters, had a boyfriend, and just graduated from Michigan.

4. My favorite one - Mr. Y Attorney was still working in our office at the time. It was another Old Ebbitt night. The type of night where at the end of it you could be drinking cleaning liquid and still smile....with brighter teeth. Open to suggestions with a plastered smile, and a plastered everything else. Mr. Y suggested going to Shelly's, the Cigar Bar down the road. So, why not? The guy who hooked up with the intern, Mr. Y and I headed to Shellys, where we had $40 cigars and Glennfiddich special reserve 12. They hit on the only other party that happend to be there, and happen to single out the most unattrative 'big' girl of the group. I didn't want to ruin my cigar. Time came when they were both rejected and we all decided to go to Camelot, the classiest, yet still skeezy, strip club in DC.

I smiled, because it was my first time. Out of the fifty times I've walked by that place, I've only been in it twice. And it's nice. You can have a drink and not get hasselled. Watch a show and not feel obligated. Mr. Y ordered beers and shots, watching stripper after stripper walk by...eyes totally not wide shut. Other Attorney was falling asleep, so bad that the bouncer came over and told me he was cut off and that I should watch him. The night ended with me having another beer, sticking a wad of ones into the thong of yoga boddied, hip wiggly, curley haired, 36 D named Lauren.

So tomorrow night, don't bother calling folks. Whatever the suggestion or the question, I will probally say yes. If I call you, just hang up because I'll either be saying, 'Hey, I love you," or "Hey, You know what I think about you. Well, You.. blah bah, and that one time..Oh shit." If you happen to stop by Old Ebbit, Disregard the well dressed, well behaved, well spoken blokes at the bar, and look over to the corner to the people who are having a blast...and well, join us for a few. At least I can say, You were warned.