December 18th 2013
Story originally written and experienced: December 14th 2013
The only thing better than booze and Brooklyn –
Is Booze. Brooklyn. And A Drunk Jesus Imposter.
I’ve never declined a spontaneous adventure.
After the last impromptu endeavor Charlie and I took into the unpredicatable jungle of Brooklyn…
I was a bit interested and slightly intrigued as to where this rogue Saturday afternoon might take us next.
“Do you want to come with us, Olive? To the party in Brooklyn?” Katie and Charlie asked me on the subway home from brunch.
I looked at them with mild class and said
“Where are we going exactly?” I inquired as I t o s s e d off my floral blouse and traded it in for a grungy tee, oversized snow boots and a contemplated ponytail.
“We’re meeting friends at a bar called 4th down. Right off of Bedford Ave. It should be fun. They’ve got fooseball…and snacks.”
And so we were in route. >> Hipster attitudes and PBR’s on the mind, battling the relentless snowstorm that proudly landed on the anniversary of the infamous Santacon.
An annual event where mass amounts of rogue santas
sTuMbLe around the city, inflicting unexpected presents
While Gingerbread men catch cabs
And off-duty St. Nicks can be found face deep in a Budlight with Geoffrey Beene
After battling the masses in Manhattan, we slyly ducked into the discreet Brooklyn bar to hide away from the festive herd, investing in fantastic company, 6 for $20 PBR tallboys
A lifesize Jenga.
I played a round. And then I played 8 more.
My pride one slab of wood at a goddamn time #ladylumberjack
And that’s when I heard it. An Australian accent. And then 8 more.
“Hey mates! We’ve got heaps of booze ova heh!” One said.
“Hey look! A massive Jenga!” Said another.
“I’m not sure how we got heh…” said the 4th, 5th, and 6th.
They were drunk. All of them. Which was quite convenient. As everyone else at the bar was too.
One game of community Jenga segued into a bar wide flip cup and ended in conversation about their former whereabouts.
“Like once or twice a ye-ah.” they began to explain “a bunch of our mates get togetha and do what we like to call the ‘Williamsburg shuffle; wheh we just bah crawl around Brooklyn and just drink for no rayson. So. heh we are!”
And there they were.
But not for long. Moments later the shuffle was back in session.>>>
And this time.
We were invited to join.
To which we were like
And headed on our way.
To officially initiate us into the “Williamsburg Shuffle” they told me
“You can only come if ya moon dance out of this very bah”
And I did.
(Footage was too spontaneous to capture. Please see a mediocre re enactment below)
The diverse lot of us frOLIcked in the snow – Whiskey town bound and ready for an unexpected evening that was soon to take a
About the equivalent of 8 snowcones to the face later #hailtotheface we had finally arrived at our semi-final destination.
We were drenched. And remedied our chill with a few pickle back shots and Budlights.
I looked to my right.
And saw an Australian in distress.
“What happened? What’s wrong?”
“I just tried to drank that candle. And tha wax fell on mah face.”
“….And why…would you do…that?”
“Because I’m babay Jaysus. And babay Jaysus can do anything.”
And then everyone was all like:
His claim was wildly incorrect…but entirely too entertaining to ignore.
So naturally, we shortened his new found name to “Bay Jay” and witnessed as he spent the remainder of the evening drunkenly embracing his new identity (and other innocent bystanders as well)
Whilst he prompted for the “authentic shirtless approach”
And whipping out his credit card and screaming
Where he indeed treated his “fellow disciples” (us) to…water that unfortunately never quite turned into wine…
The Williamsburg shuffle swiftly changed into a A Christmas Pregame where a spontaneous Q&A ensued with Bay Jay himself.
“Your birthdays coming up Bay Jay! Any big plans?”
“Nothin big, just singin some hymns.”
“Bay Jay! Over here! What’s your dad like?!”
“Mah dads a great guy. There’s a book about him, ya know. It’s called the bible. Or as I like ta call it: Parts one and two…old and new.”
“Thanks again for the round, Bay Jay!”
“What can I say, I like to make sacrifices.”
Eventually the shuffle was back in action
Only stopping to pound a slice of “blinking robot cake” we drunkenly admired on the way out
“It’s my boyfriend’s birthday cake!” the sheila in the booth told us
“When he was younger, his mom got him a robot cake but wouldn’t let him eat the silver frosting…which was the entire thing. So. At 25. We ordered him a new one. And here we are.”
I ate 4 slices.
And alas the lot of us shuffled over to an establishment called “The Charleston” that offered free pizza with every beer purchase.
The bar was chock full of…Santa Bunnies playing Buck Hunter
Taking selfies with temporary strangers
And going into in depth detail with a local as to why oh why he ripped off half the sleeve on his leather jacket.
And that’s when I saw it.
Right before my very eyes.
Fellow Australian herd member, Byron became overwhelmed by Bay Jay’s imposterous ways and went forth to claim the title for his very own. To show his true…diaper…and claim his territory with a sharpie marker in hand.
Dancing happened. A dual between the buck hunting playing Santa bunny and baby jesus happened. Playing ski ball challenge against baby J. Definitely happened.
And after a strangely religious, pizza-filled evening splashed with Australian flair and questionable morals – Charlie, Katie and I decided to bid adieu to yet another strange episode in the strange Brooklyn jungle.
And it really wasn’t until we witnessed this sight on the subway commute home.
And took an impromptu picture with a giant snack in the neighboring station.
Did we realized that
This was far from the last time something like this would ever happened again.
And that we were potentially going to hell #skiballgamble
Happy Holidays Everyone.
Keep adventuring, Keep loving and Keep living.
It’s what Bay Jay would do.