This post should have been titled, "Mardi Gras at Central", but given how the night turned out... Sometimes things just don't turn out the way you planned and that may not be such a bad thing. Unfortunately, my planned dinner companion, Adventures in Shaw, got sick so I had to find someone else to have dinner with at my now favorite restaurant, Central, for their 2nd annual Mardi Gras Celebration. Why waste a reservation at a great restaurant when they're having live music from the New Orleans jazz quartet Laissez Foure and New Orleans food and cocktails? How hard could it be to snag a friend to go with me? Well, apparently harder than I thought. I asked a guy friend of three years who seemed eager and confirmed an hour before the reservation. Now let me add, even though this may not be of any importance, that this is a guy friend who has occasionally hinted at and made minor gestures toward being more than friends. Why? I have no idea. I have given this guy no indication that I'm interested in being anymore than friends and things seem just fine remaining that way. But his statements about there being good men around that women just ignore always baffle me. I don't doubt there are at least one or two good guys still left. I just want one I'm interested in. So, to make a long story short, I'm at the restaurant sitting at the table 40 minutes into the reservation and this guy, who I have always considered to be reliable, has not shown up. I call him and he tells me he is on his way?! On a night when tables are in demand at this restaurant, I called him back and said I would just eat at the bar. These are the times when you are thankful you have never slept with a man. When the very gracious hostess came over to see about me, I told her what happened and that I needed more gay guy friends and that I would be getting drunk. My second Hurricane almost did it while I munched on a tuna burger. Since I was not drunk or tired, I headed to Adams Morgan for more live music. I ran into an old DJ friend. He was with a friend who turned out to be from my hometown. While I didn't recognize her, we actually went to the same junior high school! What a coincidence! We exchanged numbers and made plans to meet up for dinner later in the week. My DJ friend gave me a ride home. He walked me to my door and after several minutes of explaining why a hug and kiss on the cheek was enough, I offered him a homemade chocolate chip cookie. I actually made cookies the night before and they turned out really well considering I hadn't made cookies in years. He declined. Oh well. I did promise him that I would show up for his DJ night this coming Sunday. C'est la vie!Sphere: Related Content
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Yes, it's that time of year - tax time. That means catching up with an old accounting friend to get the dreaded deed out of the way. Since this was cause for celebration, I stopped to visit another old friend - Aroma - to have an "I just finished my taxes" martini. It was a frequent stop when I lived in the neighborhood. I caught up with lots of people I hadn't seen in years and the place hadn't changed a bit, including the smoke. Aroma was the first bar to get an exemption from the smoking ban that went into effect a couple of years ago. It's strange to me that I was ever able to tolerate the smell. While this is still one of the best neighborhood bars in DC, the smoke and its after effect, was not pleasant. Hmmm... kind of like owing Uncle Sam.Sphere: Related Content
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
What did I expect really? I should have had sense enough to stay home this past weekend given that Friday was Friday the 13th and Saturday was the hideous fake holiday known as Valentine's Day. As some of you may know, I am a fan of the day after - February 15th - which I have previously referred to as Veteran's Day for Singles.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Sphere: Related Content
This is what I'm drinking now: Royal Bitch Reserve Shiraz 2005. I was initially drawn to the bottle because of the label but was told by the owner of Modern Liquors, my neighborhood store, that it's a very good wine. I figured at $10.99, why not give it a try? I love it! It goes with everything and by itself very well. And if you're going to be a bitch, why not be a royal bitch?
Saturday, February 7, 2009
Let the dancing begin!
This is how much of a house head I am: A couple of years ago I packed my little rolling suitcase and took the Chinatown bus to New York at 2 am. I arrived at 6 in the morning and immediately took a taxi to ClubShelter. I checked my suitcase at the door and danced until 10 am. The place was packed the entire time. It's a strange but comforting feeling to know that there are other people in the world who are into dancing at 6 am. I then visited family across the bridge in Jersey.
Tonight I plan on shedding a few pounds on the dance floor.
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I was recently in the company of an 18 year old and felt compelled to ask what the kids do for fun these days. I'm never around kids except for the occasional visit with my sister and her kids. Well, this particular teen who lives in DC, gave me a run down of her social life. I was surprised to find out that hers was not much different than mine. She mentioned: going out to eat, art/music/fashion events, hanging out at a friend's place, going to the movies, and shopping. Yeah, pretty much the same for me. Boyfriend? Nope. Me either. She even said she didn't really like kids and probably would never have any. Now that was funny. But seriously, I really began to think about how different I am from an 18 year old college kid this past Sunday at a Super Bowl party thrown by some neighborhood friends. There was a keg, people playing beer pong, and so much pot being smoked I'm sure I got a contact high in addition to my hangover. And yes, these are all over-25 people with jobs and in some cases mortgages. Maybe this is what happens when people don't get married or have kids.
But the one thing that I can say distinguished me from the 18 year old: she said she wanted to be a trophy wife one day and do nothing all day but shop. Poor thing. A sense of reality usually does come with age.