Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Re-posting of my wild night from two saturdays ago, after revision

I don't know how I'm existing as a human being right now. Last night was the single most wild night I've ever had in my life. I think the collective wildness I've experienced in my lifetime doesn't touch the amount of wild I experienced last night. You're not going to believe this shit, reader. Seriously, I don't know what the fuck. I don't even know how to begin. I suppose I'll start right at the beginning of the night where Selvaggia and I ripped shots of Absolut. As a side note I'd like to write that the best chasers are Fanta, any flavor with any drink. I'd made plans to meet with a large group of friends at the One Eye'd Jack and figured that pre-gaming was better than paying for drinks. Turns out I didn't need to spend any money on drinks. I was fairly excited to hang out with all of my friends there, though, because the One Eye'd Jack is the best bar in town. Divertimenti, the owner, said he was going to come and hang out with us after the bar closed, too. Selvaggia and I were amped up for another night of craziness. We certainly got our wish. I really can't fucking believe my night. I'd also had two glasses of wine with my roomie and her boyfriend (whose also pretty much my roomie) before taking six shots in a row and I was definitely feeling the alcohol as I halfway stumbled out of my apartment door.

I somehow managed to re-trace my steps and find my way to the One Eye'd Jack with a group of my apartment building friends, where we promptly met with Buzzarro, Poeta, Moda, and Carino, ordered drinks, and sat down in front of the T.V. for some rugby (which is definitely the sexiest sport in existence). One of my apartment friends, a sculptor who came out with Selvaggio and I the night of Montecarla, sat with me and we drooled together over the bodies of the rugby Gods for a solid fourty-five. I noticed my free rum and coke had disappeared and was given a liter of beer by Buzzarro. Moda was wasted we noticed MJ was back and took more photos of him on his iphone. We hung with another sculptor friend from my apartment and ragged on the artwork in the Jack, had another set of free shots, met up with another group of our friends and had a really amazing time. As the Jack started to close and I started to feel a little more alchoholey, Divertimenti told us we'd go see what was up at Babylon and passed around some of the Absinthe wine cooler things that jingle. I've determined that these drinks are the foundation on which out-of-control nights build.

Divertimenti and the other bartender whose name will now be Poco closed up shop around 2 am. We crossed the bridge on our way to Babylon when Poco rolls up in his ity-bity car and Selvaggia and I hopped in and took a ride to the club. Turns out, Poco is really awesome and I had an amazing time pretending I could speak Italian with him. We roll up to Babylon and the cops are there, hushing everyone and telling us we needed to get away. They looked just about ready to punch Divertimenti out and so we decided to take off and go someplace else. We showed up to Twice, which both Poco and I trash-talked from the minute we walked in until the minute we left. We decided to leave almost as soon as we walked in and Divertimenti, Poco, Selvaggia, and myself jumped into the car and took off again. This is the part where my night starts to turn messy.

Divertimenti wanted to get us some alcohol and have a mini-party at his house. There were no liquor stores open at 3:30 in the morning and so Divertimenti came up with an excellent solution. We pull up outside of Sei Divine, Divertimenti's other bar, where he begins taking off the locks. The things weigh like 20 pounds a piece. I was pretty wasted at this point and it took me a minute to realize we were breaking into Sei Divine for free alcohol. Divertimenti gets the locks off and before opening the doors mentions totally nonchalantly that "We have 25 second for get beers or else cops come. Don't walk in, cameras record. I'll grab beers and hand to you, run to car and andiamo" (which means we go). My arms are suddenly laden with Becks and Selvaggio is being handed more, Divertimenti is throwing coasters around Sei Divine like frisbees, Poco is ushering me towards his getaway car, when CRASH! Selvaggia drops a beer and it shatters on the cobblestones. Divertimenti hastily replaced the locks and we booked it out of there like criminals. Which I guess we kind of were.

We pull up to Divertimenti's house around 4 a.m. and Selvaggia and I are dumbfounded by how cool it was. Dudes got a terrace-garden. We took a little tour and then went out into his garden to admire the fact that there is at least one Goddamn tree in Florence when suddenly I'm soaking wet. Divertimenti has a gardenhose and is spraying Selvaggia and I full-blast. Apparently he was just as wasted as we were. Selvaggia didn't get as blasted with water as I did but we were both pretty drenched. Poco ran inside to get me a towel because I was literally sopping wet. It was red and embroidered with flowers; turns out it wasnt a towel but a bed sheet and they had draped it over my head and around my shoulders. "Gypsy! Gypsy!" Poco is shouting and next thing I know I'm rattling a cup at them and getting 1 and 2 eurocent coins tossed at me. They covered me in flowers and bananas? and paraded me around the room. Exhausted, I plopped down onto the couch and for the next hour and a half the four of us tangoed, watched a show that made fun of Barack Obama and Victoria Beckham on Divertimenti's big screen T.V., and took shots of whiskey. We got pretty sloppy and were all dancing around the apartment when a conversation started about chicken nuggets. By this point its at least 5:30 and we decided we absolutely HAD to have some McDonalds chicken nuggets and rushed out the door in pursuit.

It probably wasn't the best idea. I mean, seriously, I'm going out at 5:30 in the morning to get chicken nuggets. Who the fuck eats chicken nuggets at that hour of the morning? Regardless, I went. We zoomed around the city at 140 kliks, like 90 mph, racing around buildings and seeing parts of the city we never knew existed. We pulled up outside a McDonalds and what do you know, its closed. We moved onto another and that one was closed too. Finally we decide to try the one in the train station and we're on our way when Poco and Divertimenti start chattering madly in Italian and then burst out in uproarious laughter. Not knowing what the deal was, Selvaggia and I begin to question the boys. We didn't need to ask very much to figure out what had happened. The car begins to slow, putter, and then die. I've never been in a car in my life that ran out of gas. Not a single time. How the hell does this happen while I'm in Italy driving around in search of a McDonalds? There haven't been alot of times in my life where I've laughed so hard. I still feel it in my abs.

Luckily we were right outside of a magazine stand and the owner told Poco where a gas station was. He also informed us that we needed to move the car. I'm not joking, people. At 6 a.m. on Valentine's Day morning I was pushing a car down the streets of Florence. In a dress still soaking wet and wearing a cowboy hat I'd managed to steal from Divertimenti's apartment. We pushed for five minutes before rolling the car to a stop on the corner. I can't handle it, readers. I can't handle that I was pushing a car on the streets of Florence simply because I wanted to eat some chicken nuggets at 6 a.m. Poco gave Selvaggia and I a blanket and a blow-up pillow and Divertimenti stood guard outside the car while Poco went off to buy some gas. I laughed with Selvaggia the entire time he was gone. Hysterical laugher that just doesn't stop, so intense its almost maniacal. Our laughter only intensified when Poco returned with two 1 liter water bottles filled with gasoline to put into his car. Seriously, they were Frizzante water bottles, the kind you'd buy in a store, and they were green and it was just fucking funny. He filled up his little car's tank and we were on our way again by 7, racing along at top speeds back on our quest for McDonalds.

When we finally made it to the train station and realized that, hallelujah, the Mcdonald's was open. There was rejoycing. We stormed the place like the homeless do on Thanksgiving at shelters and we feasted. The very best part was that my nuggets tasted exactly like chicken nuggets from home and my fries were golden, crisp, and salty. Obviously this was the best breakfast I've ever had. At least I didn't have a soda and opted for a bottle of water. I still can't believe how refreshing it was. We drove back to Divertimenti's munching away. We had no need for words; I think by this point the four of us had reached a new level and there was an understanding between us where words were no longer required. That and we were all so tired we couldn't think coherent thoughts. We dropped Divertimenti off at home and were finally homebound. Selvaggia and I were exclaiming loudly the whole way because Poco was taking us down the Florentine backroads which are twenty thousand times more beautiful than those we frequent normally. "You think this beautiful?" Poco says, veers the car in the opposite direction, and we're driving wildly down streets so narrow I could have put my arms out the window and touched people in their windows. On both sides. It got more and more incredible the further we drove. We drove around the outskirts of the city and saw it from up high. Poco drove so quickly everything went by in a blur and when he finally slowed we were on a windy street making our way up a hillside. Cypress trees lined the road and the view in between them was so breathtakingly beautiful I was honestly dumbfounded. I think I said "Oh My God" an unholy amount of times. I'm lost for words even now. Poco explained to us that this was a Florentine road that most tourists didn't get the chance to see that lead up to the Piazza dei Michelangelo, where another David copy stood overlooking the entire city. I was so excited when I got out of the car I ran around in circles.

The sight from that Piazza was better than from the Duomo. Hands down. David stood behind me and I had the most magnificent view of the Arno. The Piazza was empty so early in the morning and the fog was only just beginning to lift. The Arno moved lazily and the sun was just peeking out from behind the clouds. FUCKING AWESOME! Poco gave us a little history lesson about the city and the Piazza we were standing in. He explained that the Piazza was a lookout for the Medici or something and they would sneak there from their palace whenever they thought something was going wrong to escape the city. We had a perfect view of the Boboli Gardens and he explained that this was because they wanted to be able to keep watch on their home. He told us all about the Gardens and how they were used, at one point, for the Medici family to raise their horses and grow their crops. Selvaggia mistakenly thought Poco was saying the Boboli Gardens were used for the Medici to raise their whores and the attempt we made to explain to Poco what exactly whores are was definitely something I wish I had recorded. It was the perfect ending to my night.

By the time we wound our way back down the hillside and back into the city it was nearly 8 a.m. Poco dropped us off in the San Lorenzo and our walk of shame was definitely one for the record books. The vendors shouted obscene things at the two of us while they opened up their shops. We were clearly still feeling a little tipsy and we were cracking up the whole way home. We didn't even bother to take the stairs and chose to take our faulty elevator up to our apartment. I walked in and our other roommate and her boyfriend were just getting ready for a day trip to Pisa. Since, you know, normal students who study abroad actually see the country and experience the place and I just break into bars and break down in cars. They took one look at Selvaggia and I, me still wearing my cowboy hat souvenier, and shook their heads. I fumbled with my contacts for a couple minutes before passing out still wearing a damp dress.

I can't count on my hands and toes how many times I said what the fuck while I typed this. Because seriously, what the fuck?
Arrivederci, for now.
Love, Gabby

No comments:

Post a Comment