Friday May 22nd marked the first weeknight that the college graduates of 2009 were home en masse. Turnout on Caroline street was respectable, with forty or fifty familiar faces popping up throughout the night, as the bars along this beaten path unknowingly played host to the biggest social event of the summer, until the next weekend.
We peppered our peers with questions about their future and received our own stumpers regarding summer plans. I kept explaining to people how I was settling in with my new roommates Barb and Jim, who not long ago had just been my parents.
The prevailing theme was that we were all strapped for cash and not anxious to enter the “real world,” where we couldn’t waste our money on liquid social lubricants. Yet for that weekend, with the post-commencement glow outshining the job hunt gloom, we broke into our piggy banks and decided to worry about our ATM balances when we sobered up.
I wasn’t quite that cavalier about blowing my budget, but I did allocate $20 for my reunion in downtown Saratoga Springs.
Reunification began at the top of Caroline Street with the Tin’N’Lint, which is our inevitable starting point. The Tin’N’Lint, or TNL as it’s called, is popular amongst young drinkers because of its cheap drinks and environment, characterized by a tendency to use the pool table for flip cup and beer pong. Also, the music isn’t too loud and usually provokes a sing-a-long.
Arriving around midnight I bought a pitcher of Coors light for a reasonable nine dollars after a dollar tip, and with the extra cups I grabbed, to encourage expansion of our flock, we assembled around an undersized table. Our beers quickly made friends, as someone bought shots for our expanding circle. Standing upright provided us the mobility to dart across the room when we recognized a comrade we hadn’t seen since winter break.
After thirty minutes of this we commandeered a booth, which was a major coup since it offered a comfortable refuge for us to enjoy the second pitcher we bought through pooling our money, which included my dollar contribution. Having a booth at the TNL is like a king holding court, with passerby making obligatory stops to engage in conversation, and this engendered a lot of socializing.
In the final hour at the TNL drinks miraculously appeared in my cup, I took advantage of the comparatively clean bathroom, and our immediate group dwindled to just my best friend Alex and me, which was our sign to leave.We headed to Gaffney’s, which I’m not fond of unless the patio is open with live music playing, and even then it’s extremely crowded and hard to hear yourself think. But my cohorts always end up there so we made the necessary pilgrimage.
Upon entering we received complimentary sips of a Long Island Ice Tea from a friend. After that I nudged my way to the bar where I got two Coors light for eight dollars after a dollar tip, and then we fought our way through traffic to the porch. There we settled at a table with former classmates and debated the merits of Gaffney’s, concluding only that they run out of pitchers too fast. Forty minutes later, after one friend was tossed out for throwing a drink and another blew my mind with his comprehensive life plan, we headed across the street to the City Tavern.
Alex and I had no intention of buying drinks, and headed straight for the stairs that led to the roof, which provides a view of the city that serves as a perfect culmination to any night. We took in the sights with friends who were lamenting their decision to purchase a “rum and coke [that] was not worth the money.”
With two dollars left our journey took us to D’Andrea’s Pizza to ease my hunger pains, since earlier we were counseled against Esperantos on the basis that it probably wouldn’t fit my budget (a fact I later refuted). With the purchase of a slice at D’Andrea’s my funds were exhausted and my stomached rumblings quieted.
All in all I’d deem the night a success, as I stuck to my budget, mingled with plenty of people, and never suffered from a parched mouth.
Caroline Street was the perfect venue for a pseudo reunion, as it was more inviting and exciting than our High School gymnasium will probably be when I have to organize an official reunion as class president.
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