Last night, my boyfriend and I went out with some of his friends to celebrate one of his college friend's birthdays at a place in Brooklyn called Barcadia. The way my boyfriend described this place I expected to be in a casino-like place lined with video games and waiters taking your drink order. Well, imagine my surprise when instead I was surrounded by boys wearing beanies, and shirts that are small and faded, and skinny jeans that were tighter than my skinny jeans. It was a mix of your average nerds, hippies and skaters. As you might imagine, I was very much out of my element. What's worse, there was one, sometimes two, bartenders, which made getting a drink nearly impossible. In fact, every time I tried to order a drink, it seemed like the bartender was serving everyone except me. When I finally was able to get the bartender's attention, I ordered a white zinfandel. "A zinfan who?," the bartender asked. "What kind of white wine do you have?," I asked. "Chardonnay, and, uhhhh," he began. "Chardonnay! A chardonnay is fine," I said. But as it turns out, the chardonnay was not fine. It tasted like rubbing alcohol. This place was supposedly known for its beer, so I ditched the chardonnay and ordered a Raspberry stout, expecting a light, sweet beer. What I got was vomit-inducing. The beer was dark and disgusting. I tried to give the beer to several others, but they all had one sip and passed. So I ditched that beer and got a merlot. That merlot also tasted like rubbing alcohol. At this point we ditched the bar and walked to the diner where I just had coffee.

How was your weekend?