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Tuesday was Janell’s birthday. Lots of people I hadn’t seen in months, some “hot Germanic wine,” and Laura’s killer enchiladas. She was leaving for Louisville the next morning for a trucker convention event. She showed me pictures of the “snowbunny” models they booked. I kept expressing my need for the blonde’s phone number, but Janell refuses. Guess she’s looking out for me.
Thursday night I had dinner over at interior designer’s place. Then we watched 3:10 to Yuma, which wasn’t as good as I had heard. But she won a ton of points for asking her friend for a kick-ass recipe and then trying her hand at it. Enchiladas suizas with guac. I’ve totally been on a southwest kick lately. Also had my favorite beer in her fridge. I knew I wanted to be with J when she bought a case of my favorite beer and had it in the fridge the first time I ate over. So girls, figure out his favorite beer and have some on-hand. I didn’t stay the night, but left pretty late. I think she’d be a great girlfriend, but I’m not ready to make that call. Sucks that she has three roommates.
Since I knew I would need to get up at 3 AM on Sunday, I made it a point to relax beforehand. So Friday night I made Hamburger Helper and Luke came over to watch basketball for a while. Saturday I tried to cut the grass, but the damn battery on the lawn tractor was dead and wouldn’t take a charge. Then it rained… a lot. And it kept raining… a lot. I took Benadryl and beer and was out like a light by 10 PM.
Marathon morning. Rainy and cold. I was the only idiot who wore shorts. We got the truck unloaded and got the water ready right about the time the wheelchair racers came through. Shortly behind were the front-runners of the half marathon. By the time I left at 10 AM I was freezing, stiff and hoarse. But I loved it. Didn’t see physical therapist, but she said she finished the half with a decent time. I texted her saying that I missed her and was looking forward to seeing her as the high point of my day. She wrote back later that night saying she was hurting and was trying not to move until Monday AM.
Then the boss man organized a Blue Planet Run 07 reunion since so many of the runners were in Atlanta for the marathon. We ate at this swanky place called the Peasant Bistro on Park Ave. Great view of the Park and World of Coke and they had this awesome specialty: sweet potato ravioli. Drool. Then we grabbed a drink across the street at Stats, a new sports bar on Marietta St. It was then that I saw the score of the Kansas/Davidson game and wished that I could have seen it.
Headed out in a few minutes to the Braves’ home opener. It should be awesome.
Otherwise known as Steak-n-BlowJob Day. Pretty self explanitory… it’s all about meat… and too few women are tragically unaware of this holiday. I’m pretty sure the founding fathers would have wanted this in the Constitution.
I have a dream. I have a dream that one day, women will rush the butcher counter at the last minute, demanding the best cut of beef and paying for it through the nose. “$27/lb? I’ll pay it! Nothing but the best for my man.”
We feel left out. Ladies, if your guy made you feel special on Valentine’s Day then what better way to return the favor than meeting two of his most basic needs… to be fed and receive an unsolicited suck? No mylar balloons or cards could express that kind of love.
Some guys aren’t even aware of this holiday, so why not surprise him tonight? Invite him over and have a steak dinner waiting for him… then, when he least expects it, take advantage of him. I can’t begin to express how much we love this.
And just imagine how much harder we’ll try next February!
Spiral Entertainment organizes quite a few parties in Atlanta such as Halloween, St. Patrick’s, NYE, Day Before Thanksgiving (WTF?) and most recently the OysterFest this weekend.
Now I went to their Halloween thing back in 2006 and that was pretty fun once I could squeeze my way through the crowd. OysterFest was pretty much a repeat. You could smell the seafood from Monroe. I didn’t get there until 5 and the place was packed. No overflow into the park… just cram everybody into Park Tavern. And they had a wedding reception upstairs last night too.
In a moment of brilliance, both my friend Tricia and myself forgot to get cash from the ATM before going. The on-site ATM was out of cash. There was only one bar which could accept plastic and about 200 people had the same idea as me. So we stood in “line” for about 45 minutes trying to get beer. People were ordering like seven drinks at a time, most of which were mixed drinks, and passing them along to their friends not in the line. Meanwhile, I’m missing pretty much all of Cowboy Mouth’s set. I was chatting with this girl next to me about how we could jump out of line right now, walk to the Kroger on Ponce, buy beer, walk back and drink most of it before the people in front of us got their drinks.
So we finally got beer. Hooray for double-fisting Guinness! Got pretty close to the band, saw the last four songs or so.
I have tons of respect for someone who can simultaneously play the drums and be the band’s frontman. And chick bassists are the hottest thing since heels and thongs.
Afterwards we bailed and drove over to Six Feet Under on Memorial Dr. for some more trustworthy seafood. If you’ve never been to this place, let me give you the rundown. It’s in the Grant Park area. They have a rooftop patio which is awesome in the spring, and you have this beautifully morbid view of the Oakland Cemetary. (Get the irony of the restaurant’s name… har har har) So this place was packed, line spilling into the parking lot. So Tricia suggests we go to their other location on 11th near Tech campus. Free valet parking = yes. Their rooftop patio gives this awesome panoramic view of the city, partially obscured by a parking garage that went up across the street. Food was good, music wasn’t live but still my taste, and it looked like a fun place to get a beer after work.
So we’re trying to see what everyone is doing later that night. Seems like I have a lot of friends who don’t like to go out. Phil was just enjoying a chicken nugget dinner and said he may go over to the Righteous Room later. By the time we left Six Feet he had already relocated to The Local on Ponce. We stayed there till about 12:30 drinking PBR and shooting the shit, giving the eye to college girls. One of the biggest challenges a guy faces when meeting girls is when they are in groups of three or more, especially if he’s flying solo. Here, not only does he need to open the whole group but win over his target AND her friends. Tough without a wingman.
Lesson of the day: Bring cash.
I’m off to see “No Country for Old Men.” It’s been out forever and I hear amazing things. But the Academy Awards are tonight and though I have no intention of watching, I’m sick of sticking my fingers in my ears whenever someone wants to discuss this movie.
Just for clarification, I’m going NEXT Saturday. Definitely want to see Cowboy Mouth and I’m eager to hear Gringo Star live. Sure it’s a two-day event, but I just don’t think I could eat oysters for two days straight. I don’t even know if I like oysters.
So last night Luke wants to make up for not coming out on Thursday by taking me to the movies. That would be awesome, except the only thing playing now that I care to see is “Rambo”. “Juno” was really good, as was “Cloverfield.” “Welcome Home, Roscoe Jenkins” MUST be good because Monique won’t agree to do just any black comedy…..
So we drove down to P’tree City, home of golf cart paths and $200k income families with 2.5 children. The Macaroni Grill closed and in it’s place stands Mulligan’s. (Get it? Golfing community? Bah!) Nothing special. Bunch of families and couples in their 40’s and older. Beer list that wasn’t accurate at all. Then I noticed all the people our age were sitting by the bar. Doh.
Some people feel like they have to buy their love a bunch of branded, useless garbage on Valentine’s Day…. or else the axe of raging emotion will fall on their head. So they bombard the Wal-Marts, Targets and Krogers of the city and eagerly pay 300% mark-up on flowers. (Obvious hint o’ the week: Wait a few days after Valentine’s Day to buy flowers. They’re back to regular price and you may even get them cheaper if retailers are trying to unload them before they turn to potpourri)
I’ve never bought-in to the event, rather, I revel in the people watching. This was the first year in many that I couldn’t witness this from behind the pharmacy counter; taking a break from dispensing Viagra to smirk.
Even when I was in a relationship, neither of us made a big deal of the holiday. J got me a card and a new clock radio I had mentioned wanting; I took her to a show at Smith’s Olde Bar she wanted to see. Besides, we had just gone on a weekend getaway to Destin, FL. My idea of romance as always been the little thoughtful things you do for someone, which is best used sparingly to enhance the quality of your relationship. Some people don’t get that concept.
So what did RA do last night? I happen to have a long-time friend who’s birthday just happens to share the same date, so several of us met at TAP on P’tree St. for some unfulfilled advertised V-Day drink specials. Apparently the drink specials were reserved for people who had Valentine’s reservations upstairs. The lowly single folk had to drown their sorrows downstairs, paying full price and listening to a musician sing sad rock songs. I anticipated “Heart Shaped Box” or “Every Rose…”
Regardless of the lies, we had a good time. TAP is billed as Atlanta’s first “gastropub,” a term which I am unfamiliar. I just assumed the fare would give me indigestion. Gastropub is a British fad where a pub serves higher-quality food than your typical dive. I ate a tasty cheeseburger, served on a toasted English muffin (a first!) with a shooter-sized Wendy’s Frosty. Maybe the chef has heard that dipping your crappy Wendy’s fries in Frosty makes them edible. I thought it was chipotle mayo from a distance.
Never the type to end a night early, Phil invited us to tag along to the EARL to see the Liars. I hadn’t heard of them, but I know Phil has excellent taste in music. We all drove separately but the show was sold out by the time we got there. So Phil split his time between seeing the band and drinking beer with us at the bar. The best part of drinking beer in East Atlanta is the chance to sit and watch people. They never disappoint.
While taking a leak in the bathroom before driving home, I looked above the mirror and saw this:
And I smiled….
