The Most Bizarre Night of the Week

Your head feels like it's in a vice grip, for some reason you're wearing last night's outfit sans pants, and you've got multiple stamps on your hand from you're-too-old-for-this bars in the LES. If this is on the weekend, you know the routine: water, breakfast sandwich, Gatorade, aspirin, black coffee and creative excuses of why you'll be late for brunch.

Maybe I'm another stereotypical NYC degenerate, but mornings like these happen more than I'd like to admit. 

Yet in a city where any night is a great opportunity to add some drunken adventures to your life, there is one day of the week that stands out as an oddity.

I'm not going to clickbait you, it's Tuesday. But let's analyze the other days.

Wednesday

It's hump day, and you're on the optimistic side of the hump. Thursday through Saturday is for partying, and you could use a few low-key drinks with your coworkers and buddies before the madness begins. You're about to close out your tab and some asshole decides to buy shots. You pause, partake, and then the night slipslides into anarchy.

Thursday

Brad. I'm pretty sure it was a Brad who was the drunken frat boy who proclaimed for all that Thursday is the new Friday. Since then, it's devolved into a party night with very real consequences the following day. Your friends are amped to celebrate Thursday, which is celebrating that tomorrow is Friday, which is celebrating the 2 days that capitalism provides you to freely fulfill all of your life's dreams. But hey, the people are heading to the next bar, and you want to have first-hand knowledge of Friday's gossip.

Friday

A poet once quipped:

Friday, Friday
Gettin' down on Friday
Everybody's lookin' forward to the weekend
Partyin', partyin' (Yeah)
Partyin’' partyin' (Yeah)
Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun
Lookin' forward to the weekend

Saturday

The blackest of blackouts. A boozy brunch to wrap up Friday's festivities bleeds into meeting the other friends at some bar, where you end up at someone's apartment where you're unsure if you should bring fancy or normal beer, and then it's kind of lame, so you ping friends until someone rescues you with their exciting plans, and before you know it morning birds are chirping and you can't get home because the MTA sent some dumb yellow service train, and all you want is to be back in your bed, safe from the encroaching sunlight.

Sunday

Brunch day! Also a great day to fantasize that the earth will explode at midnight and Monday will be cancelled forever.

Bloody Marys are basically a liquid salad, Mimosas have vitamin C, and with a bit of anxiety-reducing THC, your body has everything it needs to handle five consecutive days of work.

Monday

Jesus Christ there are 4 more days of this shit? Just pour me as much alcohol as it takes to forget that fact.

Tuesday

Tuesday. Who the hell drinks on a Tuesday? Too much of the week is in front of you to make a night of it. Maybe you go for Taco Tuesdays, but your friends have to leave for a spin class, because they have some measure of self-respect.

If you ever want to have a wild night, close down a bar with whatever freaks are in it to win it on a Tuesday night. These will be the finest specimens of NYC weirdos you'll ever meet. You will meet people who have been on Maury Povich...multiple times. You'll meet some old French lady who disregards NYC laws and smoke an entire pack of Gauloises inside the bar. You'll see and hear things that leave you emotionally scarred and frighten you from every going out on a Tuesday again. There is no proper justification to drink on a Tuesday, and that makes it easily the most bizarre night of the week.

So there you have it. Disagree with me? I challenge you to a Tuesday duel.

Race you to rock bottom.