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To whom much is given, much is expected. And in the case of mimosa-thirsty New Yorkers, when you’re given the opportunity to indulge in your first boozy brunch in over eighty years due to the passing of the “Brunch Bill” allowing for morning alcohol sales, you need to take advantage of it. And by “take advantage,” I don’t mean “drink yourself into oblivion.” I mean, “you need to not screw this up.”
The “Brunch Bill” has been given enough press that even Gigi Hadid and Zayn Malik are saying, “We fucking get it, guys, we can drink at 10 a.m. this Sunday.” While it may not seem like a big deal to some because other states embrace blatant alcoholism, it is a big deal in New York City for those trying to feed their habits and silence their demons with some a.m. champagne.
In an effort to minimize the inevitable damage that over-excited New Yorkers will have, I want to take this time to spread some intel on how to not completely botch the opportunity you’ve been given. From one bruncher to another, please adhere to these policies before you fly off the handle and have to explain to your boss why you were late to the office on Monday because you couldn’t handle going out on a Sunday.
Make a rezzie.
It’s going to be an absolute madhouse at your favorite brunch spot. Don’t believe me? Fine, have fun sitting on the curb while everyone else enjoys their undercooked eggs.
Do yourself a favor and make a reservation at your go-to spot. Make it for your normal number of people because there’s inevitably going to be the token friends who couldn’t make it because of their hangover, and then Sarah is going to obviously bring those two friends that no one really knows.
Keep a charge.
Or take charge, however you want to phrase it in your group text. But the first thing you have to realize when you know you’re going to hop on the train early is that things are probably going to end one of two ways – with you face down on your couch at 3 p.m. napping or with you getting completely weird. And if things get weird, you need to ensure your phone is fully-charged so you can get out of any sticky situations as efficiently as possible.
Make sure that Blackout You plugs your phone in the night before. Put your phone on Low Battery Mode. Buy one of those dorky Mophie cases. Whatever you do, do not let your phone die while you’re out in public on a Sunday. That’s a one-way ticket to Scaries Town.
Get a base.
An early start time for mimos doesn’t mean you still eat your first meal at a normal brunch time. I don’t care if you’re choking down a dry poppyseed bagel at 9:45 a.m. on your way into a bar – you make sure you have a base before you start going hard in the proverbial paint. Proper preparation prevents poor performance, and if you’re not stacking some carbs in that stomach of yours before pummeling it with double-vodka bloodies, you’re asking to be the one at the table who everyone knows is visibly too hammered.
Beware the afterparty.
This is Sunday brunch. Not Spring Break 2006 in Miami. Clubs are out of the question, you animal. Don’t let the adrenaline of re-toxing convince you that keeping the day going into the night is a good idea.
Have an exit strategy.
When it’s 4:30 and the second wave of NFL games comes on, those three hours of gametime fly the fuck by. All of the sudden, it’s 7:30 and you’re sitting there. Drunk. In a dark bar. On a Sunday night. Feeling bad about yourself. Have an exit strategy and stick to it before you have a full-blown panic attack but are too drunk to feasibly take a Xanax when you get home.
Buddy system.
You’re only as strong as your weakest link. And when it’s Sunday morning and everyone is already emotionally fragile, that weakest link is probably you. If you don’t buddy up and talk out every step of the way, things might get dicey. You don’t want to be the wildcard in a group of people you’ve never met before. It’s all fun and games until you cut your hand open on a broken cocktail glass at someone’s apartment a $40 Uber ride away from yours.
But if you do? At least your phone’s charged because of that dumbass Mophie charger you bought for these exact circumstances. .
The thought of being heavily intoxicated on Sundays frightens me. That’s what Saturdays are for, and, as I get older, even that takes its toll.
Username checks out. We don’t have time for moderation – Man the fuck up and get hammered like the rest of us while making poor life choices filled with regret.
Get busy livin’ or get busy dyin’
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I’m confused because people have been getting shit housed in NYC on Sunday brunch for years…