It would be hard to describe our weekend brunch and bar crawl as a “success,” but it certainly had its moments. Some highlights:

- Incredible fucking dip (if I could choose a place to die, it would be in a tub filled with the onion dip).

- Incredible fucking cupcakes (the salted caramel made me pee a little bit, but only it wasn’t pee but clear and more sticky and kinda smelled like bleach and felt like a sneeze).

- A number of people saying, “Wow, your apartment is gigantic.”

- Good friends and good company.

It did, however, have some lowlights:

- There was no bar crawl, because everyone left. (Well, that’s not true – me, the lady and a friend who lives in Bay Ridge went to two bars, but the remaining 15+ people came just for the brunch and left.)

- Three of the 25 people I invited came to brunch (I am not speaking to a number of “friends”).

- No one ate my eggs (not surprising – they were not very good, especially not compared to the other options).

So the takeaway is that the brunch portion was a lot of fun, and I’m glad people came out. But at the same time, I feel bad – why the heck would anyone come waaaay out to Bay Ridge (see previous post) for a two hour brunch? Even while the brunch was going on, I was expecting us to hit the road and tear up the bars of the ‘hood well into the evening hours. But then this one had to go, and this one had to leave, etc.

Alas. I was looking forward not so much to the brunch, but showing people all the cool (and cheap) dive bars of the neighborhood and getting proper bombed all day. Instead, I was home by 6pm and cleaning syrup off my kitchen counter.

At least there are still some of those cupcakes left (even after I had two for breakfast).