And the drummer was nearly naked

A couple of weeks ago I went down to Quogue NY because the restaurant my niece works at was closing for the season and they were having a bash called Drink Dockers Dry. At least I think that’s what it was called. It was what I called it anyway.

My partner in crime for this little jaunt was my sister, The Interrogator. We caught a 9 o’clock ferry from New London and got to Quogue at about 12:30. We had some time to kill before the party so we went to the Canal Café and had their killer lobster roll. We had manicures then checked into our hotel. We got to Dockers around 6 o’clock.

There was tons of food, plenty of people and a band. The Interrogator and I sat at the bar because it’s usually way more fun. And as a bonus, you can make friends with your bar-mates. This crazy woman was sitting next to my sister for half the night. She was dressed in ratty sweat pants and kept her cell phone in her bra. I think it was on vibrate, because she kept taking it out every so often to send text messages.  Maybe she was sending them to herself.  She seemed to be having a good time anyway because she was doing the shake, rattle and roll to the 70s music.

Also present was the Tomboy. She was a teeny-weeny woman who loved to dance. I couldn’t stop staring at her because she appeared to be in her 50s but had the body of a 10 year old. She had perfected the chicken-head-bob dance and spent much of the night on the dance floor in a crouch position with her arms flailing around. The Interrogator thought her dance was similar to Elaine’s on Seinfeld.

The band was pretty good. They played a lot of 70s and 80s music, which was fun. I was sitting only a couple of feet from them and at one point tried taking a movie with my point-and-shoot camera. They were playing Play That Funky Music and I thought my other sister (who was supposed to come with us) would like to see what she was missing. Unfortunately, point-and-shoot cameras apparently don’t take the best videos because it came out kind of stinky. Lots of background noise. The lead singer, who introduced himself to me as Bobby, wanted me to email it to him but the file is too big. Not to mention that I’m not sure I want Bobby to have my email address.

The Interrogator managed to get the lowdown on the band and everyone sitting within a 10 foot radius of us. She spent a lot of time gushing to the band about how fabulous they were. I think she was laying it on a bit thick, because they weren’t THAT good. She found out that ratty-sweat pant lady was actually a very successful real estate broker, despite the fact that she wears ratty clothes and apparently doesn’t place personal hygiene high on her list of priorities. And she’s pretty sure she scared away a couple of young men who were friends of one of the bartenders because she was asking them too many questions.

Despite the fact that it was a cool October night, and the restaurant is open to the outside, it was plenty hot in there. By 11:00 or so I noticed that the drummer was a little hot.

I don’t know much about being a drummer, but apparently you can work up quite a sweat. And I think he wanted his pants off too. After the band played their last song, he gets up and proceeds to button and zip his pants up.

And one final note. What’s up with New York drivers? Everyone says that Boston drivers are one of the worst, but I would say that in Boston we drive with purpose. We know where we want to go and everyone else is just in our way. I can’t tell you how many times I was behind someone in New York that drove as if they had no idea what they were doing or how they came to be the master of 3,000 lbs of metal on wheels. Stopping in the middle of the road was a fairly common thing. Good thing I had decent brakes.