404’s Adventures in Hoboken

People often ask me, “SeanPiotrowski, why do you always have to live out my dreams? Leaving me here with nothing to do but hate you because you lived my dream and I haven’t.”To that I have but one answer, “Because I’m SeanPiotrowski that’s why…”

Last night Me, Jerold, John, Frank, and special guest Steve Pucchio were asked by 9 ladies from the Rider Girls Soccer team to accompany them to a night of bar hopping in Hoboken, NJ. Did I mention we were being limoed up in a limo bus? How much did this cost me? How abot ZERO FUCKIN DOLLARS! This was the last time the 404 boys would spend a night out together so we did it up right…

Prior to departure we were introduced to our limo driver, Fred. He looked like he used to shine shoes for John Gotti. He was totally a former mafia driver. It was written all over his face. After a quick stop at Joe Canal’s, where I dispensed my extensive knowledge on White Zinfindel to Soccer Girl Andrea who had no clue which brand to go with (I reccomended Beringer of course :-P), I got me a 6 pack of Sapporo and we were off to Hoboken…

As we drank our alcoholic beverages and drove up we all got acquainted with one another and settled in for a nice one hour plus drive. About 40 minutes into the trip I was over come with the gigantic urge to piss. So bad in fact that I almost began to sweat. However I did not want to be the only to pee so I felt stupid saying anything. After about 15 minutes of fighting me pissing my pants one of the girls ran to the front and told Fred to stop at he next rest area. FINALLY! I was saved. Turns out everyone had to pee SUPER bad but was afraid to say anything…

We arrived in Hoboken, buzzed, and ready to slosh. We stopped at this one bar with a sign that said NO COVER. We headed in ordered drinks and hung out. There was music playing a dancing area which we all pretty much filled ourselves. As we all danced, I proceeded to down 3 Vodka and Cranberries in 15 minutes, my world famous DRUNK INTENSITY kicked in and I was ready to party. As we all danced and had a good time this dirty old Mexican man tried hitting on the soccer girls. We all took turns saving them and then snickering at the old man for being such a creep. It was some random dude’s birthday and the annouced his name and he got up on a platform that was on the dance floor and started dancing very badly. My 404 boys are very familiar with the SeanPiotrowski dance moves from many dance parties we’ve had at 404 and from my many performances of Stutter dance over the years. Knowing this they proceeded to egg me on to challege this sorry white boy. While he continued to dance with two of his ladies on the platform I jumped up and started dancing ultimately pushing them off the platform. A full blown dance off was in effect. As I danced and spun my way into the hearts of everyone in the bar the 404 boys and the soccer girls cheered me on to no end. I was even joined on stage by some of the soccer girls. As the dancing continued I busted out one of my world famous spins and then immediately followed it up with a jump off of the platform back on to the dance floor. I landed firmly on my two feet and cheering ensued. The birthday boy was disgraced and I had won my first official public dance off. The kid tried to show me up with more of his dancing but everyone knew who the real champion was, SeanPiotrowski…

We left that bar soon there after and went to another bar. This was a crowded basement bar we all got drinks, I had another vodka and cranberry, and we hung out and casually talked as we winded down from the previous bar experience…

We left after one round of drinks and went to another bar. There was a line outside. It was super crowded inside. We waited. Word on the street supposedly was this was the hottest bar in Hoboken. We waited. Did I mention I was in a short sleeved polo shirt with no jacket? Yea I was. Here I was waiting on line in the cold with no jacket. I became agitated. Jerold did too. We wanted to drink not wait in lines. Jerold and I started asking various drunk people if the bar was infact hot. They all said it was beat and all said to go to this other place. As I tried to rally our troops into going somewhere else they refused to leave. I became enraged. I started taunting the bar. I started verbally assaulting the bar. Then I hear, “HEYA RECHARGE, Calma downa ok?” Jerold got this F.O.B. Italian man to call me recharge and I went over to him. I said, “Man is this place good or is it beat? Tell me straight up.” He said, “My friend, itsa beat.” Jerold and I had enough, we started walking across the street as I turned to the bar and said “FUCK YOU BAR YOU SUCK!” and we left. The rest of the troops soon followed. We went to another bar. Walked right in ordered drinks sat down and hung out. I had two more vodka and cranberries…

We left that place and headed to what would be our final bar of the evening. Apparently there was a cover charge and this place, 404 doesn’t pay cover charges. We walked up to the door, saw the guy collecting money, and kept walking past him. He knew what we came to do and that was not pay a bullshit cover charge. I don’t really remember much of this bar except that Andrea bought me a glass of wine to thank me for her wine recommendation earlier in the night. Then soon there after it was time to head back home. Some where between leaving the bar and walking onto the bus a random girl had pissed me off and I hung myself out of the bus door while holding on to the door pole and screamed “FUCK YOU DYKE!” to her. I don’t know why this was said nor do I know if I was even yelling at someone but I did this and it was the talk of the night. Everyone enjoyed that moment. So we all took our seats, I attempted to text message people (One said, “hamavi.m JreuM”), we began our ride home, and we all passed out…

Next thing I know I’m waking up on a couch at the girl’s soccer house freezing, still wearing my shoes (JMU style) , and trying to use a pillow as a blanket to keep me warm. I look around, Steve is sleeping on the floor, John is on the other couch, and Andrea is sleeping in a Lay-Z-Boy. Apparently she didn’t make it to her own bed which was up the stairs. I look at my phone, its 7:30. Jerold and Frank are no where to be seen. I go back to sleep. John wakes up at 8 and I do too. I’m like “DUDE WE GOTTA GO HOME I GOTTA GO BACK TO TOMS RIVER” He told me to call Jerold, no answer. We went back to bed. 10:30 rolls around, Frank is on his way, I stand up, and I notice I’m feeling a little squirrely. Ahh yes, I was still drunk. Not just a little drunk, but A LOT drunk still. Oh boy was I in rare form. We jumped into Frank’s car, got Chicken Italian sandwiches, and went back to 404. I packed my things up and headed home for my Grandfather’s memorial service…

I must say that Hoboken was THE SINGLE MOST FUN TIME I have ever had as a Rider student. We all had a blast and I cannot stress enough how great of a time it was. Not to mention I got to live our one of Turbo’s dreams. I cannot thank everyone that was involved enough for making it such a wonderful night…

I haven’t been posting due to end of the semester crap. I am finished my finals. I will be working all of break and living up at 404 with John who is also working. I hope you will all come to visit me up at 404 for I hope to make you all dinner and serve you alcoholic beverages as we dance the night away…

I have a few things more I’d like to talk about but we’ll save that for the next post. I think, as always, I’ve given you all one hell of a story as it is…

Till next time…”I am the drunken master…”