Guys Night Out

April 2008

I somehow invited myself along on a night out with Ricky Rousse, Boomp, and Maldonado. They were hellbent on going drinking in Chicago and I couldn’t resist making sure they completed this goal. No girlfriends, no bitches, no worries. And of course, I was allowed to go because I’m like one of the guys. The guys were pretty pumped to be let off their leashes. If any of the ladies wanted to give them a hard time about it, I was ready with fighting words. You don’t question the Lynx and Guys Night Out. It should be a stipulation if not already a given.

Anyway, I was really excited to show the guys around Wrigleyville since they hadn’t been before. It was a Thursday night and I took them to Barleycorn, which is my favorite bar out that way. It was dead when we stepped in. Like DEAD. This was the emptiest I had ever seen Barleycorn, I had no idea what the hell was going on. There were like 3 other people drinking. I thought to myself, “Great, this is the last time I get to go anywhere with these guys in the city. I’m at the right place at the wrong time.” We came to drink and we did just that.  One of the guys went and got us all Irish Car Bombs, and I don’t remember what else we did. I got tired kind of early and talked them into going back home.

We crashed in Maldonado’s basement. Boomp and Rickey Rousse were getting hot and brovy (heavy but for bros) on the couch. They were lying down head to toe and were trying to jam their feet on the other person’s nuts. I think that’s a crazy way to show a bro some love, but what would I know about that? I got the loveseat to myself and at one point asked Maldonado to come over and cuddle. Ever the opportunist, he came right over and laid next to me but I didn’t cuddle. I just wanted someone next to me, I was thinking about things I shouldn’t have been.

When we woke up the next morning, Maldonado had moved to his bed. I was about to leave without saying a word when Ricky Rousse and Boomp asked me what I was doing.

Lynx: I’m leaving, I have to get to class.
Ricky Rousse: So you’re really going to do a walk of shame?
Lynx: What? What walk of shame? I didn’t get ass last night. I didn’t even fucking cuddle with Maldonado.
Boomp: Yeah but his mom and his little sisters don’t know that. What are they going to think when they see you with bed hair upstairs? His mom is going to hate you for exposing her daughters to the walk of shame!

I was horrified of that thought. I can’t corrupt little girls. That’s what boys are for! I asked Boomp and Ricky Rousse to walk me out, they refused. They thought it would be funny to subject me to trauma. So I did the only thing I could, I went and woke Maldonado up. I jumped on his bed and scared the shit out of him. The way Maldonado tells the story from when we got back to his place is actually quite hilarious to listen to.

Maldonado: I was trying to cuddle with Lynx on the love seat. I was caressing her left tit and I totally thought I was gonna get lucky. But you know what? Lynx, you wouldn’t even cuddle! Why would you ask someone to cuddle if you’re not going to do it?? 3 hours later I wake up to Lynx hovering over me, “I don’t want to do a walk of shame!” It’s not a walk of shame when we didn’t do anything!

He wound up walking me to the door which in hindsight I think was actually worse. His little sisters were probably thinking, “Who is this girl that Maldonado is saying goodbye to? Why did she sleep here? What did they do? Is this his new girlfriend? When can I have boys stay over?” And his mother was probably thinking, “This fucking slut, why did Maldonado bring her back here? She could have at least had the decency to wait to leave so my daughters don’t have to see her.” Believe me, this has scarred me for life. I never want to wake up from a night of partying again and have to face someone’s mother and little sisters.

Jonathan Goldman Turns 21!!

The other night Lynx & Crew were out in Wrigleyville celebrating Jonathan’s Goldman’s 21st birthday. We did a mini-barcrawl and it was the second place we stopped that warrants a mention in my chronicles.

Since living in the city, Jonathan Goldman has always wanted to go to Cubby Bear. It’s not my type of place, although it is a staple of Wrigleyville. So we honored his request and when we showed up, this reggae band was playing. There was maybe roughly 30 people there, half of whom I rolled in with. Honey dragged all the girls out to the dance floor, where I got creeped out by guys coming up to us and I headed back to the bar so that I would be left alone.

One minute I’m talking to Kooter Kake and the next I’m talking to a bachelor party. I don’t remember how it started and I couldn’t even tell you what was said, although I did diss the groom-to-be because he was from Michigan and some doofus was a Hoosier. They looked like idiots in these bright red t-shirts which they had specialized for the “Bachelor Party Bar Crawl.” One of the guys, forgot his name, got all up in my space. But it was okay, he was a pretty guy. And that’s when one by one my friends came up to us, saying it was time to go. G-Spot. Once wasn’t enough. Ricky Rousse. Twice wasn’t enough either. When Sloppy Shot came up, I still had half a beer left and I was in the middle of a conversation with a guy.

Sloppy Shot: Come on, we gotta go.
Lynx: I still have to finish my drink. -looks to bachelor party guy-
Sloppy Shot: Is it the only thing that’s keeping you from going to the next bar?
Lynx: …Yes… -meaning no-

And then he took my drink from my hand and finished my beer! And then he basically dragged me out of Cubby Bear! I didn’t even wait til we had turned the corner (Cubby Bear stands on the corner of Clark and Addison) before I started yelling.

Lynx: Why the fuck did you do that?!
Sloppy Shot: You were talking to douchebags!
Lynx: AND THAT’S A REASON TO COCKBLOCK ME??
Sloppy Shot: Uh…they were douchebags…that should be enough reason.
Lynx: But that’s perfect! They don’t want to stay til the morning!

I kept yelling as we crossed the street. I was still yelling when we came to Goose Island and discovered it was closed. I didn’t care who heard, the hobos or the skanks or the bros, anyone and everyone on Clark Street heard that I had been cockblocked. It escalated when we went into Mullen’s. G-Spot and Ricky Rousse cornered me to calm me down. At least I think it was Ricky Rousse? It may have been Boomp.

G-Spot: Would you rather have fun with your friends or have sex with a douchebag?
Lynx: …Yeah I choose sex.
Boomp/Ricky Rousse: But it’s Jonathan Goldman’s birthday. Don’t you want to be there for him?
Lynx: But it was a fucking bachelor party!

Let me first of all say, I fucking love Jonathan Goldman like I love Tucker Max. Jonathan Goldman is like a god in my eyes. I was just Hurricane Bitch out of control. Of course Jonathan Goldman & Crew are more important than random ass with a stranger who went to Mizzou! But my poor vag, they all had someone to go home to! After Mullen’s we stopped at Taco Bell for drunk munchies. On our way out, I saw the bachelor party come in. My ire was reawakened. Hurricane Bitch came out and Ricky Rousse and I got into a physical altercation back at Jonathan Goldman’s apartment. Lesson here? They obviously didn’t pay attention to Scruffelhauser’s words “You don’t want to get in Lynx’s way when she wants to get laid.”

Drinking Beer = Sex?

Myself, Ricky Rousse and Jonathan Goldman were at a wedding this past weekend. We were pretty surprised to learn that Rockford does have some nice places. Franchesco’s was pretty awesome. Aside from the decor and the Sinatra room, they served Ciroq! As we were explaining the significance of Ciroq to a new friend (Vodka Night- to be written about, Boomp’s birthday), Ricky Rousse shared something that I had completely forgotten.

Ricky Rousse: There was this huge bottle, it was a fifth of Ciroq-

Lynx: It was bigger than a handle.

Ricky Rousse: Okay so it was like two-fifths. So this bottle was pretty much gone in the first half hour. We were going to use the rest of it for shots when Lynx comes in wanting some more for her cranberry vodka. I told her that the rest of the vodka was being used for shots, she got all pissed and bitched at us, “What the fuck am I gonna mix with my cranberry vodka?! Fuck it, I’m going to switch to beer and then I’m gonna fuck some random guy!!” Then she stormed off. Me and Jonathan Goldman looked at each other like “What the fuck just happened here?”

Lynx: Oh my god -laughing- Did I really do that? I don’t remember at all!

Ricky Rousse: You were being such a bitch. You were acting like just because you were drinking beer meant you had to go fuck someone. You can drink beer and not fuck someone!

Slutty Friends

Don’t rely on the Lynx to expand your booty circle.

Ricky Rousse: Don’t you know any slutty dudes who know any slutty girls?
Lynx: The slutty dudes I know, I didn’t know long enough to get their names.

Hurricane Bitch

January 2009

Buttersauce, Jonathan Goldman and Ricky Rousse planned a surprise 23rd birthday party for Boomp.  Boomp was lured out to Chicago under the pretense they would be barhopping. Birthday boy was quite surprised indeed and never saw it coming. We were stocked up on hard liquor, in particular we had a huge bottle of Ciroc which Boomp and Ricky Rousse are really fond of.

So I started off with cranberry vodkas, unusual for me to do since I’m a beer drinker.  As the night wore on, more people showed up and more people got drunk. I had been a really good happy drunk I was jolly (yes Jolly) and stumbling over myself. I was a happy drunk until I discovered we were out of Ciroc. Upon making the switch to beer, apparently I bitched out Ricky Rousse and Jonathan Goldman. I don’t remember any of this but since I am one of the loudest (sometimes angry) drunks in the group, I’m not too surprised.

Buttersauce came up to me, wondering if pizzas should be ordered. I love to eat so there was no way I was going to tell her not to order them. I was in the kitchen when the Pizza man came. I got drunkenly excited and started waving to the guy, asking if he wanted beer. And then G-Spot ran over and held me in place to prevent me from actually going up to the  Pizza man. I got angry.

Lynx: “I have to give him beer! Let me go!”

G-Spot: “Hey it’s okay, Sloppy Shot already did it.”

Lynx: “That asshole tipped the Pizza man before me?”

G-Spot: “Yes he did, now calm down!”

Lynx: “NO! I’M SUPPOSED TO GIVE THE PIZZA MAN BEER! HOW COULD HE DO THIS TO ME??”

G-Spot let go of me and I stormed into the next room where Boomp, Ricky Rousse, Sloppy Shot and Scruffelhauser were in the middle of a beer pong game. Not giving a shit, I belligerently got in Sloppy Shot’s face and began yelling at him. He claimed not to know what I was talking about, I called bullshit and then I angrily poured the rest of my cranberry vodka into his cups of beer. I visibily saw that Scruffelhauser and Boomp were surprised and disgusted with what I did. In my drunken state I didn’t care. I seriously felt like I’d been disrespected by not being able to give the Pizza man beer.

I started walking back to the kitchen when I realized that I had been so angry, I forgot about the pizzas. I sniffed the kitchen and asked where the pizza was. Someone made a comment that G-Spot and Jonathan Goldman’s lady had taken it to his room. My ire once again was ablaze and I ran from the kitchen to Jonathan Goldman’s room screaming, “THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS!!! THEY’RE HIDING PIZZA FROM ME!!”

Right before I reached the room, G-Spot slammed the door shut and I began banging. I was about to try and hulk the door when it opened and I saw the two with cheese and pepperoni hanging from the side of their mouths. I wound up getting my share and everyone collectively decided that I had to be cut off for the rest of the night. I played nice for a while, biding my time before I could start drinking again. That opportunity arose when one of Sloppy Shot’s friends, Vick and his girlfriend,  showed up.

Sometimes I unconciously slip into a hostess role when my friends throw parties. This comes from my time spent in a frat house. I won’t get into the details, but when I see people come in not really knowing anyone or looking like they’re not having fun, I just have to give them beer. I went to the kitchen and was in the process of taking beer from the fridge when I heard,

Person: “What are you doing, Lynx?”

Lynx: “I’m getting beer for Vick and his lady friend…”

I grabbed one beer for Vick, then another beer for his lady friend. Then I grabbed a third one, “And this one’s for me, HA BITCHES!!” and took off running from the kitchen before they could take my beers away from me.   Lazer soon took me and G-Spot home after this. I don’t know if it was because he was genuinely partied out or if it was because they didn’t want me to get worked up again.

I was such a huge, raging bitch that G-Spot started calling me Hurricane Bitch this night.

St. Patty’s Day

Last night Sloppy Shot, Ricky Rousse and I went to the Fox and Hound to celebrate St.Patty’s Day. For a place that’s styled as an English Public House (Pub), it was pretty rocking for an Irish holiday. We met up at Sloppy Shot’s. I was the only one greened out and the only one to wear party beads. For a moment I was afraid that I was somehow out of the St. Patty’s Day loop and that perhaps I would be the only jackass looking like that, so I gave some of my beads (hard earned from a fratty Mardi Gras party years earlier and some remnants from Chicago’s Beerfest) to Sloppy Shot and Ricky Rousse, so I wouldn’t look like an overexcited douchebag. We arrived and I learned that there were more people way more excited than me about St. Patty’s Day. I definitely was not out of place.

We were waiting on Boomp, Honey, and Lyle Harris to show up, and we started drinking without them. I don’t know how I forgot this, but when the waitress gave me my beer I almost thought she had the wrong order. Miller Lite doesn’t come in green! I tasted it to see if I could tell it was green. The aftertaste was horrible, but it could have been because it wasn’t ice cold- the way I like my Miller. I tried to finish the nasty beer as quick as I could and then ordered a Stella, which to my relief was not green and nasty. Ricky Rousse and I were supposed to play a game of “Have you met the Lynx?” But I wussed out, even though I had the perfect opportunity with all the other drunkards who had come out to celebrate St. Patty’s Day.

I started telling them about this guy (his name was Spencer) I was kind of interested in, wanting their opinions. There wasn’t much to speculate on, so this may be continued in another blog entry if something happens between me and him. Anyway, so I was saying where he was from, where he went to school (really good national schools) and upon mentioning the fact that he had gotten an MBA, I stopped talking and had this faraway look in my eye with a silly smile on my face.

Let’s be honest. I creamed myself and thought about how I wanted to fuck him if I ever got the chance.  Sloppy Shot called me out on it.

Sloppy Shot: “Oh my God! In that second and a half, she just fucked him!”
Ricky Rousse: “If only more girls reacted like that to a guy with an education.”
Lynx: “Hey, it’s hot! I can’t help it!”
Ricky Rousse: “Aren’t you tired of being single? If you like him, you shouldn’t fuck this guy. Now are you ready to do ‘Have you met the Lynx?’ There’s a lot of drunk guys up in this place.”

Lawyer Boy

July 2008  

I found a book at work called Lawyer Boy by Rick Lax. It’s basically a modern, updated funny version of One L by Scott Turow. Rick Lax writes about his first year at DePaul law school. Naturally I read it since I want to go to law school and it takes place here in Chicago. I realized that the guy was pretty young- young enough that he would be on Facebook. I looked him up, requested him as a friend and sent a message saying how much I liked his book. He accepted and sent me a mass invite to a book reading for Lawyer Boy. It was at a place called Book Cellar in Chicago and I managed to talk Ricky Rousse into going with me.

On the highway, Ricky Rousse asked me a bunch of questions. For instance, who was going to be there, how did I find out about this book reading, have I talked to the guy. Well I didn’t know who was going to be there and in the words of Ricky Rousse, he thought that I basically Facebook stalked Rick Lax. Hell. I wanted to go to law school, I had already applied to DePaul before I knew Rick Lax got his J.D. from there. What’s wrong with asking for tips about law school when this guy wrote a book and was right here in Chicago? Am I a creep for that?

Ricky Rousse managed to put some doubt in my head. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. We got to Book Cellar and the awesome thing about this place was that they served beer and it was a bookstore. Ricky Rousse tried a Belgian beer, La Fin Du Monde, I had a taste and it was delicious. They even poured it into a glass for him. Then Ricky Rousse had to drop it and break the glass of beer which was more than half full! I was so embarassed I walked away from him and wound up running into Rick Lax.

By this time Ricky Rousse had convinced me that I was a bad person for wanting to know more about law school. I gave Rick Lax a sheepish smile and didn’t say anything. I don’t know if he recognized me as that weird girl who worked at a bookstore. Ricky Rousse and I sat all the way in the back, trying not to draw attention to ourselves. Everyone there for the most part already knew Rick Lax. I got paranoid about that.

Then came time for the signing. Rick brought his father (also a lawyer) along, and wanted the books to be signed by both of them. I got up there and Ricky Rousse gave me the idea to have Rick Lax sign “You’ve been Rick Rolled, bitch! Never gonna give you up, Rick Astley.” Ricky Rousse originally was going to get a copy for Jonathan Goldman (since he also wants to go to law school) with that inscription. He decided not to spend the money, so we had it done for my book.

What I did not expect was Rick Lax asking if we were going to Guthrie’s Tavern afterwards. It had been on the invite, but not wanting to be a creepy girl, I had no intentions of going and didn’t mention it to Ricky Rousse. We had made dinner plans to hit up a pizza place called Brick instead. By the way, they have awesome gourmet-ish pizza. Ricky Rousse told him that we would think about it. I wanted to get out of there quickly and I completely forgot to have his father sign my book.