Ok, let me just start by saying that if you missed “B” night, you should just be sorry. Now. Because it was a blast. Bombastic. Bitchin’. Balls-to -the-wall kind of night.
We began our bender with Benjy’s (which didn’t count of course, since it is a restaurant first, not a bar first). Let’s just say that the conversation involved boyz, bitches, balls, bisexuals, and (Dr.) Brokeback. And that was just dinner.
We walked to our (true) first stop of the evening, Bronx Bar. On the way, we passed a bead shop with hundreds of bowling balls in the front window. Really? On “B” night? Talk about a sign from above that we were on the right track. We met up with more friends there, and danced side-by-side with two bachelorette parties to (I’m not kidding here): Beastie Boys, Bell Biv Devoe, Bust a Move, Beverly Hills, and Bille Jean.


On to Brian O’Neills, where we’re pretty sure we saw to “working” ladies. As Carla said “they ain’t Smith & Wollensky hookers!” Heard Brass Monkey and Big Boi. After awhile, it started to feel like an episode of Sesame Street, all with “B” words. And then we met a guy in a Sesame St shirt. Oh, the irony.

Then to Baker Street, where some (now censored but HYSTERICAL) photos were taken, and the fabulous quote “If only pervert started with a B” was uttered.

We finally left, got TC to eat, and tried to watch (what else?) Big Lebowski before falling asleep on the sofa.
“B” will definitely be remembered. For a long time.