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Last night I went on a pub crawl through the East Village that was organized by Katie's friend Ali. Since I'm leaving on Monday, I was pretty much looking forward to hanging out, drankin and generally having a blast before I have to go back to Oklahoma: Native America (not that I can't have a blast there as well, but it might be awhile before I see Katie and Co again...and you know how "last hurrahs" go).
Ali and her roommate Sarah live in a hoppin little section of the East Village where there are booze locales as far as the eye can see. I'm talking one right after the other right after the other. Ali had planned it out so that we would visit a handful of these places and then end up at everyone's favorite dive bar before calling it a night.
And drink we did. The first stop was a swanky-swank bar called The Dove. Our band of merry women and man (Cossar: the lone boy who (unfortunately?) lives in Connecticut) were having the jolliest of times, when all of a sudden there was a commotion at the door to the bar and a bunch of guys rushed to the entryway to stop someone from coming in. The music was turned off and and the bar was suddenly very quiet. Then someone was like, "Hey do you see anyone with a gun coming?"
Turns out, a dude had gotten shot outside of the bar and was like lying on the steps in front of the entrance.
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Pause for a moment to contemplate this
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So, we're all like sitting at our table kinda like "Hm, ok, so someone just got shot. What the fuck..." but not in a panicky way. Just kinda like "Whoa, what the fuck." In the meantime, once it was established that no crazy gunman was running down the street, people began attending to the victim.
Another woman who was in our group -- who is also named Ali -- happens to be a third-year medical student. She was quite concerned as to whether or not she should lend a hand with the first aid.
Must be nice to have studied something handy like medicine. I mean, you basically become equipped with the power to potentially save someone's life.
This is not true of German Studies.
Very few situations in which I think my German skills could save a life. I really could only think of one, actually. Say for instance there was a bottle with the word Gift on a table and some terribly thirsty non-German speaker passes by and wants to take a sip. Yeah, if I were there, I could be like "Dude, I wouldn't drink that if I were you. False cognate." Life saved.
But I figure it's all for the best, definitely more pressure off of me. I mean, I was CPR certified a few years ago, but it expired...
Anyway...
in the end, med student Ali didn't have to perform any emergency medical services either.
And (as you can see in the illustration) we got free shots.
Not too shabby.
Comments
nice 'straitions