A Long Sunday

Yesterday was indeed a marathon drink-fest for me, and apparently many others, gauging from the turnout at Blackthorn's in Rockville Centre and at 1762 . I made it over to BT's before the 1 o'clock kickoff of the Jets-Giants game. I was accompanied by two former co-workers, partners actually. I worked with Ike and Ryan back in the mid-1990's through the early part of this century. We worked plainclothes together, protecting the good people of the Rockaways, well, from the bad people of the Rockaways. Admittedly, at times it was hard to tell them apart. We spent many tours together as part of an anticrime team, kicking ass on occasion, but mostly just taking names. These are guys that I have real history with, guys that I have trusted my life with, and vice versa.

We stayed at BT's for the entire game and some of the next, chatting it up about past, present, and futures. Ike is becoming a father in a few months, his wife six months pregnant with their first child. Ryan, a dad twice over already, groused on about PD protocols and procedures. He does a lot of grousing. Seems he is not happy unless he's miserable these days. But we love him anyway, 'cause he has a good heart, most of the time.

Midway through the game we decided to get a change of venue. I reluctantly asked them if they wanted to head over to 1762. Reluctantly I say, because of their current employer, and the fact that drug use ranges from sporadic to pervasive amongst some of the 1762'ers.

When we got there I was thrilled to see a good sized, sports loving crowd, gathering to watch the Yankees. Candy and Lily were outside on this unusually warm October night. Shelley was pouring, and many regulars were drinking. I warmly greeted my co-conspirator, who I haven't seen in a while, despite our continuous email contact.

I made some intros of my friends of my past with the friends of my present. I was feeling pretty good by now, but not drunk. Ryan and Ike were pretty good as well. In theory, the night could have been pure magic from this point on. In reality, it was a disaster. Well, maybe not a disaster like the Titanic, but certainly uncomfortable.

Ryan, who as I mentioned earlier, has earned the nickname of grumpy in our circle. He just is. While it has traditionally been at tolerable levels, his flair for being rude at inappropriate moments reached a previously unattainable pinnacle last night when he said some very off color things to one of my 1762 friends. There was no justification for it. I am not going to go into details, since I don't want to embarrass or single out the person who was privy to his comment.

After making the statement that he did, I took Ryan aside and chastised him for his behavior. I told him that he certainly embarrassed me and probably embarrassed another through his demeanor and statements. I could see in his countenance he knew I was right. He issued a barrage of Michael Vick apologies, of which I am no fan. Thankfully, my friends of old departed soon thereafter. I apologized to those affected by the behavior. And if I missed anybody, I'll say it again here. Sorry for the rude behavior. If I even suspected that there would have been behavior exhibited by my friends that was anything less than that of gentlemen, last night would not have happened.