I knew the night would be interesting when Julia decided to cut the lemon we purchased that day to garnish our cocktails with the only sharp tool we had available-- her tweezers (pictures to come). After the innovative thinking, we had two garnished (and strong) vodka clubs to toast to our first night back in town.
We left 220 full of uncertainty yet excited to discover what kinds of adventure the night would bring. The walk down Wilmington Avenue presented multiple options including Russian cat calls from a nearby porch. At first this seemed the most happening party and we considered joining the bi-lingual festivities, but opted to keep treking toward the bars.
The first bar, advertised as being the "it" place to dance and "hook up in Rehoboth" turned out to be nothing but a bunch of middle agers drinking beer and playing pool.
To our surprise, we got into Obies, the beach bar and largest gathering of young people around (at a group of about 15 people). The bar crowd had a United Nations feel. We met a Russian who taught Julia a curse word she repeated all night long and that we have sadly since forgotten. We met Mark, the British cutie (with bad teeth) who opted to come work at Funland over London (?) We don't know why either... And then there were the obnoxious but fun Americans. One showed his hospitality by buying me a shot for my 3/4 birthday. Another showed his hospitality (euphemism for worked his game?) by buying me a Tequila sunrise.
And then there was Dan.
Dan introduced himself as "someone worth knowing." He thought he was a pretty fuckin big deal. Five minutes into our conversation with him he shared with us his tattoo of Pinoccio's nose, which started about an inch below his belly button...we didn't stick around to see where it continued to. We saw Dan later in the night (a few drinks later) and he (like so many others) told me to put a drink on his tab and then ran away shouting "I gotta go get my skateboard."
After the influx of free drinks, I saw a girl hop on the bar and do a pathetic attempt at a Coyote Ugly inspired routine. Logically, the only thing to do at the time was to show her up. With Julia holding my shoes, I mounted the bar and danced while the bartender sprayed me with water. It was great.
After the bar closed at 1 a.m. (Delaware needs to work on that...) we thought about going to Dewey but discovered that the last Jolly Trolly (love it) had just left. Julia's comment: "What do we Dewey?" Even when she's tanked the girl can make a mean pun.
So we went for a beach stroll. Julia made some drunk phone calls while standing a little too far into the ocean. I watched her from the beach with Mark (the Brit) he worked his British charm by trying to disprove the "well known rumor" that Brits are bad kissers. Unfortunately for him, (or more like me...) the smooch was far from spectacular.
On the walk back, a very loud and giddy Julia suggested that me, my new British boyfriend, she and the Russian (who had followed us around all night and who spoke very little English) get brunch the following morning. Her suggestion for restaurant? The Ale House we happened to be walking by at that moment.
Highlights of the day: Julia's yellow bathingsuit (literally) A jumbo horse (no thanks to me) international bar mingling, and one kick ass Sweet Caroline sing-a-long (video to follow)
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