Saturday Morning (Where I Remember I Have A Bagel In My Backpack That I Was Going to Eat For Lunch on Friday, But Had Something Else Instead, and That's Good News Because I Slept Through The Hotel's Free Breakfast)
Outside of that bagel, perhaps the most interesting part of the morning was the air condition repair people. For some reason, the fine people at La Quinta thought our hotel room's air conditioning need repairing at 10 in the morning, on a Saturday, in the middle of February. After someone completely disassembles our air conditioner, another guy comes in, looks at the five of us guys, all in our mid-twenties, some with beards, and says, "You guys call yourselves teenagers? Where's your Playstation ?" and then moseys on over to the air conditioner without further comment.
We then head to the conference. I attended a panel on the effects of mass incarceration, which turned out to be a panel about the collateral effects of individual incarceration, which was pretty boring. Did you know if you go to prison, it's hard to get a job afterwards? That when you're in prison, your kids kind of have to live with out you? You Yale geniuses have done it again! Instead of going to the lunch workshops, me and some friends decide to check out the campus. It was nice, although at one point I thought I walked into a movie set on a college campus. We found ourselves in a quad surrounded by all these old, important looking buildings where some brosephs were throwing around a frisbee, some other guys were practicing rugby stuff, and, here's the kicker, there was a group of nerds doing that L.A.R.P.ing stuff and fighting each other with foam swords.
Anyways, I go to another panel, blah blah blah, head back to the hotel to rest up, and then hit the town for dinner and some drinking!
Saturday Night (Clever Subtitle)
So Dave, Jon, Ben, and myself decide to head out to dinner sans the rest of the group, who are still at the conference. Jon's a guy who knows his food and his restaurants, so he picked a place called Frank Pepe's for dinner. It's a dope pizza spot, which Jon assures me he'll write about in his excellent blog FoodGasm New York. I will only say this, it was quite possibly one of the best dinner experiences of my life, not only because of the awesomeness of the pizza, but also the surrounding circumstances. We were able to go in a small group instead of having to deal with another evening of trying to wrangle cats for dinner. The wait was super long, which may seem like a negative, but it made the pay off of the awesome dinner that much better. And yes, the pizza. At dinner I had a beer, an ale of sorts that I hadn't heard of and I forgot to write the name down. After dinner we met up with the rest of the group at a bar/restaurant called Anchor where I had a New England Brewing Company IPA. Then it was off to GPSCY (an acronym for something), a bar located on Yale's campus.
RebLaw held it's final party at this on-campus bar GPSCY. The bar itself was pretty awesome. It was two and a half floors. The first floor was an awesome bar with a huge beer selection, pool tables, couches, and just a generally relaxed atmosphere. The second floor was a dance club with another, smaller bar in the back. The half floor above that consisted of one foosball table. We spent the bulk of the evening going back and forth between the first two floors, playing pool, dancing, and getting our drink on. Throughout the evening I had a Red Stripe and three Brooklyn Lagers. Around 12:30, the DJ decides that she doesn't really want to play music that would get allow the group of drunk nerds to get their grind on, so she starts playing show tunes. Everyone decides its time to go. Everyone else wants to go back to the hotel. Dave and I want to stay out, because as they say, you're only in New Haven once. We ask the people working the door at GPSCY where they would go. They say Prime 16. So off we go to find Prime 16.
Where Dave and I Try To Find Prime 16 But Instead Find the Worst Bar On Earth
The door people gave us the most convoluted directions to Prime 16 imaginable, so on our way their we asked a group of people how to get there. We start following their directions and don't find it. We then ask a different group of people who give us completely different directions. We still don't find it. Finally we give up when we spot a bar someone else (some nerdy girl no less!) said was awesome, the Playwright. Five dollar cover. Whatever, we're there so we pay it. We walk in and immediately regret that decision. So far, every place we went to in New Haven had a ridiculously good ratio of men to women. Well, we found out where all the men (douchey fray guys) of Yale hang out. The place was packed with sweaty bro-dogs and a few (I mean very few) skantily clad ladies sloppily dancing on a semi-stage. Dave went and bought me my final beer in New Haven, what that was I'm not sure. We pound those drinks and head back to the hotel.
Back at the hotel the revelry continues. Our hotel room is a den of sin. Drinks are flowing. Girls are passed out on our beds.* At 3:30 we get everyone out of the room and pass out. At 4:30 in the morning, a pizza guy knocks on our door. I didn't order it and anyone who might have is either passed out and most likely not in the room. I'm the only one who wakes up and I somehow manage to get the pizza guy to leave without having to pay for it.**
Sunday Morning (Now's The Time To Say Goodbye to All Our Company)
We all wake up in a nice haze on Sunday morning. I grab some food at the diner attached to the hotel and then it's off to the train station to leave the metropolis that is New Haven. After arriving at Grand Central, we all have a group hug and then one by one walk away until it's just me, left marveling at the grandeur of the station, already feeling nostalgic about the weekend that just finished.
Eric, disillusioned by his experience, dropped out of law school. Today he runs a successful car wash in West Chester where he often runs into old classmates.
Dave went on to achieve his dream of becoming partner at Jones Day. He recently was a panelist at RebLaw conference where he discussed the merits of a free-market economy.
Jon graduated from law school and then travelled around Europe for a while. No one has really seen from him since, but last we heard he was apprenticing at a chocolatier in Denmark.
Ben died autoerotically asphyxiating himself, literally the afternoon we got back from RebLaw.
As for me, I went home that evening, where my wife invoked the "You want to have a beer rule," and had a Speakeasy White Lightning. The next day (Monday) my wife, who apparently is trying to kill me, opened up a growler of Victory Scarlet Fire, and throughout the course of the evening poured me three of those. So in total, 15 beers in New Haven, four since I've been home for a total of 19 beers over four days. I think I'm taking tonight off, but we'll see.
Total Beers: 166
Where I Should Be: 145.205
*These girls are friends of ours but I thought it sounded more bad-ass to put it like that.
**I think I did this by just closing the door and going back to sleep, but who delivers pizza at 4:30 in the morning?