Coco, Jimbo, and I have had a lovely tradition of Sunday brunch at Harvey's. Over the past year, we have brought Shilpa into this Sunday foursome. Also over the past year, and I'm not saying there's any correlation here, these brunches have extended to an all-day, drunken affair.
So much so that this weekend Shilpa proposed that we forego any pretense that it won't (a) consume our entire Sunday and (b) we won't consume our body-weight in bloody marys and cocktails.
She did this by calling it "brunk."
Fun times.
Coco brings the BRUNK!
What Brunk is all about.
All of us are also addicted to Facebook. Not quite so much as Yarbrough, who is going to need an intervention sometime soon, but still. All of us except for Jimbo. We tried to get some good candid shots that he can upload to his profile. Coco had to create his profile for him in the first place.
In fact, there was a lot of
. 
. 
And it got the point that Yarbrough wanted to be in every shot, whether he was framed it in or not:
We also noted that too-white teeth is the new too-dark fake tan in photos. Yarbrough's been using the white strips and may have gone too far. In his photos, all you see are his teeth.
Shilpa does the Yarbrough:
Coco does the Yarbrough:
Yarbrough does the Shilpa:
Sitting in the corner window, there was also a fair amount of cruising. Shilpa spent about five minutes watching Jimbo's eyes dart from body to body out the window before calling him out on it. Yarbrough was less subtle, getting Coco to yell out the window so he could take photos of hot guys waiting at the crosswalk.
We're classy.
Of course, I too hollered out the window once or twice. (Shouts, literally, to Wil Fabrick.)
When Shilpa excused herself to the little alcoholics room, she was cornered and accosted by the old queen sitting behind us who complained that we were too loud and ruining their lunch. First off, it's a bar. Get over it. Second, I'm paraphrasing what he said when he in fact was quite abrasive and insulting. And cornering and berating a woman you don't know and throwing out insults and slurs is not acceptable-- and much less than acceptable than being a loud table at the bar. Desperate just to pee, Shilpa took the abuse, offered some conciliatory "we'll try to keep it down"s and only escaped after five or more minutes of this rant.
She reported back to us, with the intent of maybe bringing our decibel level down about, but I was so incensed at the guy's behavior (We may have been unintentionally bothering him, but his actively choose to berate Shilpa and insult Coco. If he had any balls, he would have just leaned over and asked us to keep it down instead of cornering Shilpa in the bathroom area.) and Coco was so incensed at his douchebaggery that the table's volume level almost doubled. (In all honesty, when I had to visit the potty later, I could hear Coco's voice clear as bell from the opposite end of the bar and in the bathroom with the door closed.)
It was the older guy on the right that pissed us off so.
And we made it a point to outdrink and outlast them in the bar.
other patrons did take note of us. We were quite rambunctious-- loud and constantly breaking into peals of laughter. Although the other half of the room was distracted by the young couple who could not keep their tongues out of each others mouths for the afternoon. Ultimately, they were cheered. I tried to get a subtle shot but Stephen's jacket got in the way.
I've made out in bars before, sure. But generally it's late, it's dark, and there's some sort of
I'm just sayin'.
My favorite fit of breathless laughter came while we were trying to get this photo:
The exchange went something like this:
Yarbrough: "Are you there?"
Shilpa: "Are you there, God."
Me: "It's me, Margaret."
Coco: "I just got my period."
Which is why we look like this:
When I retell the story it goes more like this:
"Are you there?"
"Are you there, God."
"It's me, Margaret."
"I'm bleeding from my vagina."
Here's to brunk!
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