Everyone knows that New Yorkers do brunch mostly for the booze—no one wants to wait around to spend $15 on some poached eggs you could just make at home. And everyone knows that when you can't find anyone to go to brunch with on a Sunday afternoon, it is perfectly acceptable to drink alone wherever you want. Because other people are drinking out there, and you would be too if you just had someone to brunch with.
You can do this anywhere: in your apartment with the curtains drawn, on your stoop, at your local library, or on the sidewalk outside of where your couple friends are brunching, gazing at them through the window. You can even drink enough where it sort of feels like your friends are there with you, and it'll be just like the real thing, until Monday when you feel sort of empty and weird. That's about the level of drunk this guy was at on the subway yesterday afternoon—our tipster tells us:
"Saw this bastion of class on an uptown 4 train circa 2 p.m. on Sunday afternoon. Note the open container next to him [Bacardi rum]. He definitely didn't let that bottle sit idle. He seemed to have a pattern that he repeated a few times in which he would sit up, take a swill from the bottle, shout something incoherent to the people sitting across from him and lay back down in the 'pretending to nap' pose."
Fine, he's breaking some subway etiquette rules, but in his mind he's probably just chilling at brunch with his pals... the ones he got matching dolphin tattoos with and who promised they'd never miss their weekly brunch together because friends are forever but sometimes things just change and life just gets in the way. And one missed brunch leads to another and another and next thing you know you're drinking Bacardi alone on the subway.
