Part 1: "I Think I'm In Way Over My Head"

       This Tuesday night was probably one of those nights where I truly learned the meaning of "biting the bullet." It all started when I went to my friend Julian's house. To be honest, I just went over there to get a photo taken of me for my school newspaper, The Ticker. They want to do a piece on my band and I needed a good photo to run alongside the story.
       Eventually, my friend Julian comes in and says that he's going out to this nice dinner at an Italian joint in, of course, Little Italy. Now I was a bit skeptical from the start for two reasons. The first being that I really only knew two of the people who would be at dinner, and my neurosis kicks in in large social situations. I'm a rock 'n' roller, I'm not a high-class pasta and wine dude, and I kind of thought I'd be a bit out of place in this situation. The second reason was that I usually don't splurge on food. I usually have two meals a day that I try to fit within a budget of six dollars, tops. I mean, I got lots of Burger King coupons on the fridge at home, plus the double cheeseburger is back on the dollar menu over at McDonalds, so I heard the fast food devils calling my name. However, Julian is a good talker, and assured me that it would be fun, that there would be cute girls at the club/bar we were going to afterwards, and that I would probably only spend 20 bucks on drinks and food altogether.
       Finally I agreed to come along, but promised myself I would only spend cash on drinks afterwards, thus limiting my expenditures to 10 bucks. Straight off the bat we are getting into a cab. I told Julian I did not want to take it, but walking is my friends Achilles heel. Well, straight up I wasn't going to pay for it, and the cab came to 6 dollars. You think I am being a cheap bitch right now, but just you wait...
       We get to this restaurant where I meet and greet Julian's friends. My first impression was that these were very, very rich yuppie types. It reminded me a lot of the cast from the movie American Psycho. They ended up being very nice people, but clearly had no problem investing in fine taste. The wine starts to pour out to each of the 13 guests, myself included. I was going to have a glass or two since they already were pouring it for me. Plus the bread looked real good with the olive oil and all, so yeah, I'll have some bread too. The guy to my right is sort of egging me on, constantly topping off my glass and being friendly... sort of too friendly since he demanded I do cocaine with him that night, to which I politely declined. THEN, the anti-pasta came in with the huge chunks of mozzarella and tomato. Damn! It looked good, and I'm a sucker for cheese.
       While all the other guests were ingesting their roasted tomatoes, crisp asparagus and fried mozzarella, I looked at my phone and tried to find a way to get out of there. I knew I was going to get sucked into the financial vortex of the night if I stayed, but the smell of the delicious Italian cuisine was making my mouth pull an Andrew W.K.... it got wet. It was too late. I tucked my tail into my legs, looked up at Julian and said, "twenty bucks?" He gave me the nod and I began to dig in.
       Before I knew it was on my 7th glass of wine, the second course of delicious pasta came out... buttery tortellini, saucy penne... oh my god I have to change my drawers. Be right back. OK back. Things at this point were really looking up, I was getting sauced on nice wine and I got all the food my body can handle. We were ready for the check and ready to roll. That's when we all noticed that as the waiters took away our plates, they started to put down new, clean ones, despite asking for the check. The waiter looked at my friend, puzzled, and asked, "What do you mean? You guys have two more courses." Oh... So that's what's going to happen. I started chugging more and more wine because I was beginning to realize that this meal was not going to be twenty dollars and I should really be as fucked up as possible in order to pay for it. Plus, wine is included (or so I thought) so it's totally cool.
       By the time round three rolled up, no one was eating. The yuppies were full and I glanced at Julian and gave him the old, "I cannot pay for any of this" look. As full as I was, I could not let this delicious food go to waste, and I swear to you I was the only one who ate any of it. Well at this time I was beginning to panic. I started texting my brother and my girlfriends asking what the hell I was going to do, as if they could text me 10, 15, 20 more dollars right there. The entire time, Julian was staying calm, saying I was fine. I told him, "Man, I think I am in way over my head."

CONTINUED IN PART 2