1020 Bar

On the corner of 96th and Broadway, stood a large Mexican food truck. These guys had everything on the menu and all for just around five to seven dollars. Cheese enchiladas, Pollo Pibil, tortas, tostadas, quesadillas, three types of tacos and more were at my immediate disposal and with tons of cash in my front pocket thanks to some luck and some badass poker skills, I was not going to put a limit on my voracious cravings. Anything Mexican, be it food, music or women was tops as far as I was concerned. I have traveled extensively and with a few exceptions not many came close to what the Mexicans had to offer.

Sure those girls from Colombia, Venezuela and of course those crazy cubanitas and those Dominican girls, they all had pure salsa flowing through their veins. But those Mexican girls, well, you get the point by now and if you don’t, you will have to just trust me on this one.

I ordered some chicken Tortas in my broken Spanish and washed them down with a generous helping of hot sauce. My fingers soaked with flavors, my shirt soaked with everything that flowed out of my cheap paper plate. I was in heaven.

Satisfied, Seth and I continued to walk up on Broadway towards our apartment near Columbia University where we studied. Morningside Heights stood out like the sore pimple of the local poverty, showing off our wealth to those who once could just live a quiet life in their own neighborhoods. That was before we all moved in.
Now they had to deal with us snooty Ivey League types, those Japanese foreign exchange students and other privileged fucks whose well to do will soon place twenty year old ingrates on the very top of the local food pyramid.

To be honest, I was perfectly content to go to sleep but around 108th, Seth insisted on another round of drinks. We just finished off a couple of twelve packs with the boys but Seth called me out. Was I becoming a lightweight? Was I really a no good pussy fuck who could not handle his alcohol as he so claimed? Or was Seth was simply taking advantage of my drunken proclamation made more than twenty blocks ago? I pledged to spend every penny of the hundred dollar bills that I just won on beers and good times. Seth was determined to see me go broke. Perhaps this was due to the fact that I won much of the cash off of his poor poker strategy.

We walked up to the Heights bar but that was never really my scene. The place was full of sorority girls. I never knew what to say to those girls. Here we were at one of the nation’s top universities and still I regularly encountered people who did not read books and did not know what the capital of their own fucking state was. And on to the 1020 we soon walked.

As we walked across to Amsterdam, we ran into an Asian girl that I once laid during the spring semester of my advanced physics section taught by Professor Beloborodov. That son of a bitch did not look a day over 25 and was already an associate professor at a major Ivey league university. Goddamn Russian. He must have easily made over six figures if not much more. The son of a bitch gave me a C+ for my final grade. When I approached him about it, he simply smiled and said, hey, you did much better than the rest of the class.

Goddamn Russians.

I could not remember the Asian girl’s name. She went by Tracy or Stacy or some other name that made her sound more American than apple pie. Then again, I could not really blame her. Most Americans had freaking clue how to pronounce such Chinese named as Chenguang, Huifang or Xiuing.

Seth stepped in and introduced himself. “I am Seth, nice to meet you.”
“My name is Allison.”

That was her name. Say what you want about my portly friend but Seth was the ultimate wing man. He was always the one to save the day, my Hero.
I promised to get in touch on Facebook despite the fact that I was not entirely sure if she was still amongst my more than 500 random friends. To be perfectly honest, I only really knew a couple of my online friends. Most of my social networks friends were just people that I ran into on occasion. Seth was the only guy that I trusted in this entire city.

But this Allison was not as bad as I remembered. I considered the ideas of finding her online later on in the night after I drinks a few more at the 1020.
When we got to the bar, there was not too much going on. It was nearly closing time. We played a couple of games of pool and drank whatever it was that they had on special that night. Rolling Rock or Wild Goose beer, they all tasted the same to me at such a later hour.

Around two, we headed back to the apartment.

I closed the door behind me and pretend to fall asleep. Early on the next morning, I had a major Chemistry exam. I was not ready for the test and I knew that I was pretty much fucked beyond repair.

Three more weeks until the Fall semester ends. Six more months until my graduation day will show up. I had no job lined up. I had no real prospects. This damn recession fucked us all. Whether it was the fault of Bush or Obama did not matter. I had more than ninety grand in total student loans. Soon enough, they will be knocking on my door and asking me to make payments.
Soon enough, I would have to man up to this world and become a fully fledged adult. But graduation was not for another couple of months.
I jerked myself beneath my blue bed sheet and fell asleep with a big smile on my face.

That very night I dreamt about Allison holding an Enchilada.

The next day, I failed my chemistry exam.

I did not care. I was young and lived in the greatest city in the world.