Dating Advice from Me and LiLu

8 March 2010

My Dear Restaurant Refugee,

I am that cliché, long time reader but first time commenter (or emailer is more accurate) and I was wondering if you’d give me your opinion on something.

I work with a guy that seems to be a lot like you – smart, good looking, well dressed, and pretty comfortable around women.  I wanted to use International Crush Day to tell him that I’ve been crushing on him for a while, but he was out sick that day.  I’ve kind of lost my nerve since then.  What’s the best way to approach him?  Our office goes out sometimes for happy hour and such but I would never make a move in front of other people.  I’m pretty sure that he’s single and straight but don’t know what to do next.  Help me.

Afraid of Unrequited

p.s. I also wrote to Carolyn Hax, but I am pretty sure I have a better shot at getting a response from you.  If she responds too, I am probably going to ditch your advice in favor of hers.

Dear Afraid of Unrequited,

First, I thank you for reading and taking the time to write me this email and for your very kind words (ed. note: I did ask AU’s permission before using this as a blog post.) I am always flattered and humbled by the notion that people would ask my advice on anything.  As always, it should be noted that free advice is frequently worth exactly what you pay for it.

You don’t indicate how directly you work with this gentleman and that matters a great deal.  You also don’t indicate how big your organization is.  I am going to assume that this chap is neither your direct boss nor one of your reports – sexual harassment is never sexy.  If he is either, you need to put the crush down and back away… quickly.  The same thing applies if you two work in a really small organization or small office of a larger organization.

Your fear and hesitation is rooted in an aversion to rejection.  Everyone has it, men have just gotten more accustomed to dealing with it than women because of societal mores that have men deluded into believing that we almost always make the first move*.  The larger and more realistic question is what are you afraid of?  If you invite someone for drinks and they say no, what’s the big deal?  They have done their worst and said no, but what does that no really mean?

If the worst case scenario is a poor reaction followed by gossiping to coworkers, is that a guy that you would want to date?  From what you wrote, that seems an unlikely outcome, but if it did occur I would consider it a dodged bullet.

Some might consider a public and messy break-up that creates an untenable work environment the worst case.  I consider that situation the cautionary consideration to other questions: should I have sex with him, should I get serious with him, as those are two questions that can not occur without a first date.

My advice:

  • As with any dating issue, consider the potential risks and rewards.  The risk here is relatively low, so just ask him already.
  • Choose an activity of mutual interest (gallery opening, new bar, billiards, whatever) and issue the invitation.  More than a week in advance can lead to heightened expectations, over-thinking and the like; two days or less can seriously reduce the likelihood of his availability.  Four days feels juuuusst right.
  • If he says no, don’t over-analyze** his answer.  Do pay attention to what he does.  You’ve made it clear that you’d like to socialize with him outside of the office.  Even if he is among the breed of men who needs to be bashed about the head with a flirtatious club before he understands that someone is interested, you extended an invitation.  If he wishes to see you in a non-working context but cannot on this date, he will reciprocate the offer.  Whether or not he reciprocates your affections, is another question.
  • Do not allow or initiate any physical contact (kissing counts) until you have an all-caps NEED for it, until you cannot imagine the earth rotating even one more degree without it.  It is throwing your cap over the wall in an office environment and you better NEED it before you go flinging it.
  • Don’t create an evidence trail.  Email might be an easier way to ask but resist that urge.  If you do make plans / start dating / get serious / whatever, do not send flirty emails via the office network.  This applies to office cell phones, voicemail too.  You must erect an emotional firewall between your professional interaction and your personal.

However you choose to proceed, please let us know what happens.

Best of luck to you,

-rr

* 96.34% of the times a man “makes the first move” it’s a reaction to something subtle and deliberate that a woman has done to give us permission to make the nominally inaccurate but perceived first move.

** notice a pattern developing here?

For a woman’s perspective on this question, I turned to my dear friend, LiLu for her thoughts…

Dear Afraid of Unrequited:

I must admit, my first response is NO, BACK AWAY FROM THE COWORKER, DO NOT PASS GO, DO NOT COLLECT $200.

This reaction may or may not come from personal experience. *cough*

That said, it sounds like you want to go through with this, one way or another. So, (sigh), let’s figure out the best way to do it.

Eons ago, back when I occasionally exercised my own feminine wiles, my Plan of Action probably would have looked a little something like this.

Let’s call it…

The “SCORE” System, a la LiLu.

Step 1: “S” is for Stalk.

Stalk the hell out of him. Facebook, Twitter, Google- do what you have to to find out that he is IN FACT straight ‘n single. (A little research never hurt the cause, neither.) There is nothing worse than batting your eyelashes at the Christmas party only to have his less-than-approving girlfriend- or boyfriend, for that matter- take his arm and proceed to kill you dead with eye lasers.

Trust me. They burn.

Step 2: “C” is for Corner.

Corner him at an office happy hour. Get some alone time! Wait until he goes up to the bar, and “remember” that your own drink is empty, too. (After you down it. Duh.) Finagle the seating so you’re both on the end of the table, affording you some privacy. Last ditch move: arrange for some friends to be at a bar next door, and casually suggest he come with you for “one more” when the office group breaks up. Do what it takes, my friend. Get Creative. (Oh, look! Another “C”!)

Step 3: “O” is for Obvious.

Look. Dudes are dumb. I’ve said it, Refugee’s said it… while we have to consider the possibility that this may be a case of He’sJustNotThatIntoYou-itis, because the workplace is involved, there’s no way to know for sure. He could be reluctant to date a coworker; he could be your average dude who is completely effing clueless that you’re interested. So, once you’ve cornered him, make your affections obvious… while leaving him a “Get Out of Jail Free” card all the while. That way, you can both pretend it never happened.

You know, after those first five or so awkward meetings at the copier.

Step 4: “R” is for Read.

Read his response. For the love, try to be objective. Do keep in mind that you are trying to save yourself from having to suffer through eight hours of utter humiliation EVERY. DAMN. DAY. Look for encouragement, watch for disinterest. Pay attention to whether he asks about and listens toyou, or whether he talks about work or {insert other purely platonic subject here} the whole time. Huge, red flag signs of interest are the following:

  • Any on-purpose touching. At all. This clearly crosses a boundary between coworkers. You win. (Well, halfway. He at least wants to get in your pants.)
  • Insisting on paying for your drinks. This is an easy way for him to show interest/make your interaction more date-y, especially without alerting other coworkers.
  • Inviting you to a future anything. See phrases like: “This was fun, we should do it again.” “Have you ever been to XYZ Bar? We should go sometime.” “Want to go to a Pants Party next Friday?”

Just kidding on that last one. Don’t answer that.

Step 5: “E” is for Execute.

Now, depending on how Step 4 goes, you might be “executing” your future forever Entanglement as lovers… or making an entirely mortifying tail-between-the-legs Escape.

I warned you.

Good luck!

~LiLu

ood luck!

~LiLu

19 Comments | Crush with a big C, International Crush Day, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, bars aka where we get the booze, blog friends, booze & boozing, crush with a little c, dating, open letters | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

Missing My Mentor, Drinking to My Mentor

7 March 2010
I’ve never done any research on this, but I suspect that anyone who bothers to keep a journal could lose an entire afternoon reading through a randomly found old one.
X
Earlier today I was perusing an old OpenTable database looking for the aliases a prominent food critic to pass them to a friend who is about to open a restaurant.  All of the notes that we recorded about our guests read like the well worn pages of a journal chronicling a particularly lovely, enthralling, and more than occasionally difficult part of my life.
X
My jaw landed on the table when I reached the note about one of my wine mentors who happened to be a regular.  The grief I felt the day I learned of his death two years ago came rushing back.  Then I began to think of his incredible generosity  - with his time, knowledge, experience, and, yes, his wine too.
X
TJ would call me the mornings of his reservations and in an almost conspiratorial tone, he would tell me about some spectacular bottle with an impossible to find combination of vintage and winery.  He would drop it off before the opera and give me precise instructions on its opening – “OK, Refugee, crack it about 3; at 5, give it a taste and decant it if you think it’s ready; you’re gonna wanna taste it again ’round 8 and maybe double-decant it then but probably no later than 9:30 or so.”
X
He would arrive about 10:30 adorned with a smile as big as a Pagliacci grin… but real.  “Did ya like that wine, Refugee” he would ask despite knowing that it was nothing short of sublime; and we would talk wine in the bar for a few minutes before taking him to a table.  I always learned more during his 90 minute meal than I did in any 90 minutes of my sommelier courses and that was only from the random two minute bursts of conversation peppered with wine talk.
X
One night he walked into the restaurant – solo and without reservation as he often did during the week – and placed a winicorn* bottle on the bar.
X
“Refugee, it’s been a really shitty day, you know what we do on really great or really crappy days right” he asked with his usual ebullience  - it was classic MT; he loved life so much that even bad days were reason to be happy.
X
I replied with the philosophy learned from him, “Exceptional wines are for days that are exceptionally good or exceptionally shitty.”
X
“Damn right! Get a coupla glasses and have a drink with an old man.”
X
We were about halfway through our glasses when TJ rhetorically asked “Do you know why I come here, why we do this?”
X
Knowing him well enough to know that he would answer his own question, I just took another sip to fill the beat before he continued.
X
“There’s enough crappy sommeliers ‘round here with enough hoity-toity pretentious bullshit to fill every Tastevin** in the world.  You’re not like that, your staff’s isn’t like that, and I figure if I can help a young somm be better, and have some fun in the process, well… well, that just makes the wine world a better place.”
X
With that, he drained the rest of his glass and said “I gotta run, a few more bartenders*** to say hello to tonight; share the rest with your guys at the end of the night.”
X
The night TJ died I went to one of my favorite restaurants with one of the best bottles in my cellar.  I had a glass with my friend, the manager; I told him about MT.  I asked him to share the rest of the bottle with his staff.
X
I am pretty sure that someone bartender will be hearing a few TJ stories this evening… and drinking really well later.
X
X
X
* refers to some impossible to find bottle, usually very small production and about as much cash as a mortgage payment.
X
** refers to the ceremonial cup awarded to people who have been admitted to the International Court of Sommeliers
X
*** in TJ vernacular, “every time a great bartender becomes a manager a little piece of [his] soul dies.”  There is no higher compliment that he gave to managers than to call him/her a bartender.

3 Comments | In Memoriam, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, booze & boozing, kindness of strangers, restaurants | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

Recent Recaps from Your Friendly Restaurant Refugee

3 March 2010

Congratulations to all of the local nominees for the James Beard Awards.  There is no greater honor than to be recognized in this august group. It is my hope that each of the finalists enjoys this time.

******

Café Soleil isn’t on the radar of most members of the DC epicurean scene.  I am not about to suggest that anyone needs to rush to get there, but it is a place that is worthy of some attention.

The menu itself reads just like that of any French bistro… well anywhere.  Roast Chicken, Steak Frites, Onion Soup, Short Ribs, standard salads, and a burger would not be confused with cutting edge anywhere.  However, the food is solid… if unremarkable.  The gracious service and generous happy hour are worth noting.  Five dollar glasses of pleasant wine, house cocktails, and three dollar beers make this smallish, comfortably elegant bar a rather pleasant place to wait out a Metro delay, have a quick not-overly-committal first date,  or just spend a couple of hours boozing with friends after work.  If you get hungry while you’re there, the food may not inspire, but it surely won’t disappoint.

******

Eatonville* was not my idea for a low-key birthday dinner with a group of five friends.  However, when invited for a celebratory repast, one accepts or declines and does so graciously.  The menu at Eatonville is very reasonably priced and reads like the offerings of a really good diner.  When our food arrived, it was solid, perhaps even good when measured against their wallet friendly pricing.  Unfortunately the service was comically bad.  From the time we were seated to encountering our server and ordering our drinks, felt like ten minutes.  I hadn’t checked my watch so I cannot be sure, but it was long enough for me to note the time of our order – two beers and a bottle of wine.  Drinks took 16 minutes.  At this point it became a bit of a game to me.  40 minutes before ordering our food. Over an hour from the time we sat at the table to the appetizers emerging.  Of the ten total plates, only three arrived at their correct location.  15 minutes after everyone completed their first course before plates where cleared.

At one point during the evening, I excused my self – ostensibly to use the wash closet, but really to find a manager to explain my dissatisfaction with our perpetually empty glasses, delayed and not quite hot food, and general unhappiness.  The host couldn’t be bothered to find a manager for me.  By the time we were ready for our check – because we were late for a show for which we should have been incredibly early – we just paid and left.

The part of this that galls me most is that I swore off Eatonville after a similar experience many months earlier. I sent an email to the owner, general manager, and a couple other people.  It went unanswered.  So, fool me twice, and I feel like the worst kind of fool.

******

In some ways the people who opened Cedar Crossing Café** and Wine Bar no more than ten yards from the end of the Takoma Metro station, had a pathetically low bar to hurdle on their path to success.  In an area that has plenty of cash (in that zip code, median home value is well north of $500K and well north of the city average,) there is a conspicuous absence of actual restaurants.  The ones that do exist are largely a place for sustenance rather than cuisine, and the bars… well that’s a wholly pathetic subject unto itself.

A wine bar and café really just had to not trip over their own prep list and they would be moved to the top of the heap.

Since they opened a couple of months ago, and I have been in a few times, I have been impressed by the fact that they actually take their wine program seriously AND still manage to keep their price per glass under $10 on average.  In a city filled with wine bars where a c-note is the usual price of a first date, a well sourced and reasonably priced winelist is a significant accomplishment in itself.

Despite the positives about the wine list, I wish that I had more than tepid feelings about this place.  The very solid winelist, more than respectable stemware, and mostly impressive beer program, do not entirely mitigate the concerns.  As soon as you enter, you will be stung by the impact of their poor ventilation – upon leaving, place all of your clothes in the dry cleaning pile.  The menus and wine lists are printed on crappy paper that isn’t as sturdy as the carry-out next door uses – it just feels cheap.  While the food is also reasonably priced, it is inconsistently prepared at best.  A well seasoned sandwich might be teamed with a green salad drowning in oil but absent salt.  The same soup might be lovely one night and barely recognizable the next.

They’re still new and Cedar Crossing is staying on my list and I remain optimistic about their success.  Rough around the edges in an area where people are starved for anything better than places with barbed wire for edges is still a tactical advantage.  Besides that, the winelist is pretty damn good… so’s the beer… and the Manhattan too.  Maybe I can live with the dry cleaning bill and eat beforehand?

******

* I will not link out of pure spite and for the collective awfulness endured

** No link available… which concerns me on their behalf

4 Comments | bad clients, bars aka where we get the booze, restaurants | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

How High the Moon

1 March 2010

It’s Friday night and I had a familiar perch for such an evening, a bar stool.  This barstool however, was in Chicago where I was summoned for an urgent meeting with a new client.  Two stacks of paper and my shiny new netbook, whose name is Ava, are open in front of me.  I tucked into this Lincoln Park bar mostly because there seemed to be plenty of space to lay out my work, and the bartender had an easy smile about her.

Just about the time that I finished my Manhattan a couple of women, who would have gotten noticed even if they were not two of only a few people in the place and a gust of cold air had followed them in the door, entered the bar and took residence a few feet from me.  Their interaction with the bartender suggested that they were regulars if not friends with her.  Without ordering, two glasses of wine appeared on the bar.

I’m mostly ignoring my beer while scribbling notes, clicking keys, and reading reports when one of the women looks in my direction and said “It’s Friday night, why are you still working?”

I took a pausing breath before responding, “Well, I’m in town for work, and there’s still work to be done… being here is better than the service bar in my hotel.”

“Didn’t think you were from here – Chicago guys don’t work on a Friday night.”

A few more random lines were bandied to and fro but they went back to their wine, and I went back to my work after a minute or so.

Just after 8pm my Crackberry buzzed.  I was dumbstruck by the message.  I must have read it four or five times before I exclaimed “Wow” far louder than intended.

“Care to share?” the woman sitting closest to me asked.

This was one of those moments when you have to tell somebody so I just told these two women I was certain I would never see again*.  “So, I write this anonymous blog… well mostly anonymous as I have met a few people through it, but that’s not really germane.  Through the blog, I invented a holiday last week, International Crush Day, dedicated to declaring crushes.  I wrote a blog post declaring a few of my crushes.  I wrote that I crush on Katty Kay because ‘smart with a British accent just sounds better.’”

“You mean Katty Kay from NPR?” one of the women asked.

“From NPR, and the BBC and newspapers, and the Meet the Press, and bunch of other stuff too” I replied.

“Yeah, she is pretty hot” the ladies concurred.

“Well she, Katty Kay for the love of bacon, just left a comment on my blog, and frankly, I’m a little school-girl giddy about it.”

Andi and Monica spent the next hour or so peppering me with questions about the blog.  We spent the next four hours drinking, eating, letting the place fill around us, and talking about whatever, but I was still floating on the notion that one of my famous crushes bothered to send me a message.

* I’ve seen them both again… and just might see them a bit more, but I’ll tell that story tomorrow.

12 Comments | International Crush Day, bad clients, bars aka where we get the booze, crush with a little c, restaurants | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

Goodnight, Goodbye, and Good Luck, Old Friend

23 February 2010

My affection for the recently shuttered Polly’s Bar & Grill is at least fifteen years old.  It was never a place for fine dining, or quaffing sublime wines.  If you asked for some frilly nonsensical cocktail, odds were six-to-five-and-pick-em’ that you would be unceremoniously given a PBR or asked to leave.

Nostalgia was easily found when my first visit was in the winter and sat by a wood burning fireplace with a good beer and one of the best chicken sandwiches I‘d ever had.  It was even more ingrained the first time I was considered a sufficiently good regular that I was entrusted/commanded to maintain said fireplace.

As I write this, I am trying to determine my favorite memory of the venerable English Basement joint on U Street.

· There was the insanely good jukebox – for a longtime among the best in the city.

· There were the handful of New Year’s Day brunches I attended with as many people still wearing the clothes form the prior evening as those wearing pajamas.

· There was one day I was obviously on a date with an author I had just met at a signing at a bookstore upstairs.  I, young and relatively broke at the time, had to cut things short because I could only afford to have a couple of drinks.  I asked for the tab when my date went to the ladies room.  The unobtrusively attentive and keenly aware bartender asked me where I was going to take her next.  When I replied “nowhere, I can’t afford to,” she gave me another round and told me to order whatever and worry about it later.

· There was the night a friend and I started with one table but by the end of the night, had pushed together five tables to accommodate the strangers, and friends who joined over the course of several hours.  There may have been a game of “I Never” played that evening.  There may have been a “I have never had sex today” question.  There may have been a couple for whom only one party to a drink.

There are too many memories of Polly’s, too many friendships formed or cemented in that bar.  There were too many lovely evenings, too many first date stories, and a couple of break-up stories too.  Polly’s opened when U street had become a place where people didn’t venture at night.  They gambled on a revitalizing and ultimately gentrifying neighborhood and for many years the return was as high for the owners as it was for the patrons who were the bedrock of the bar’s community that made it such a loveably quirky place.  I suspect that the people who loved it for all of those reasons lost touch with it because of all commercialized for commercialization’s sake that came to surround it.

Polly’s, I thank you for all of the good times.  I will miss you.

******

p.s. Thanks to U Street Girl for alerting me to this news, and to Prince of Petworth for alerting her.

11 Comments | In Memoriam, bars aka where we get the booze, blog friends, crush with a little c, dating | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

Don’t Think I’m Fragile Just Because I Crush Easily

19 February 2010

As today is the day that International Crush Day is Celebrated, I have a few things to share…

I crush on the woman on the subway because she’s reading the Financial Times and for a geek like me, that’s kinda sexy.

I crush on Dianne Rehm because she can take the most divisive issue and find the civility amidst the cacophony.

I crush on Air Force Lt. Colonel Victor Fehrenbach because he spent 18 years serving our country, has a drawer full of medals, and still wants to serve despite the fact that the USAF is trying to discharge him because he happens to be gay.

I crush on Christina Hendricks because she looks like a real woman with real curves, and yes, also because I have some sort of genetic predisposition in favor of redheads.

I crush on Rachel Maddow because it’s impossible not to crush on a woman who is simultaneously the smartest and funniest person in just about any room… and when the room is a Meet the Press Studio, that’s saying something.

I crush on the woman at my coffee shop because she wears stilettos in the snow… yes, I know that is highly impractical, frequently an indication of high maintenance, but also not mutually exclusive to being kinda hot.

I crush on a whole host of bloggers, because they write things that leave me breathless either in that hand-over-mouth kinda way, or because I’ve used all my air on laughter, or because they turn a phrase that leaves me thinking “damn, I wish I wrote that.”

I crush on my butcher because she can talk about meat the way I can talk about wine which is to say for hours on end without conversation fatigue.

I crush on Katty Kay because wickedly smart with a British accent just sounds better.

I crush on Nia Long because of the movie Love Jones and that’s reason enough.

I crush on Adam Van Houten because he reported himself for an error on his scorecard that cost him an Ohio High School state golf championship and honor is very cool.

I crush on Eva Cassidy (yes, I am allowed to have posthumous crushes) because there’s never been another voice like hers, and I’ve never had more fun at Blues Alley then the times I saw her.

15 Comments | Crush with a big C, International Crush Day, crush with a little c | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

A Doctrine of Exceptionalism I can Support

17 February 2010

One good thing about being snowbound (or really snow lazy) was that I had an opportunity to catch up on work, among other things.  Like I suspect many of you also did, I vacillated between productivity and television/movies/books.  One of the movies that I finally watched (and no, I am not necessarily proud of it) was the Sex and the City movie.  I have no problems admitting that I followed the show during its early seasons – I may have attended and even hosted a SATC party or four – but I felt no real inclination to watch the movie.  I’m going to blame HBO for showing it a bunch of times and my insomnia for choosing it over infomercials.

This has never been a space for movie reviews and I certainly won’t change that by discussing a 2+ year old movie of marginal cinematic consequence.  But after watching Carrie get left at the alter by Big, I just knew there was no way they were getting back together… and then I wanted to throw day old Domino’s pizza at the screen when they did reconnect and marry at the end of the movie.  “How could she put herself in this position?” I yelled at the screen, followed by the thought “this is the bullshit message that ends a once formidable cultural phenomenon?”

A day or so later the distaste was still lingering in my mind when I trekked to a bar to meet a friend.  The Only Slightly Sleazy Lobbyist and I were sitting on a mostly heated patio lamenting our NFL-Withdrawal while sucking on discount beers and La Flor Dominicana Cabinet Selection #1* for me and American Spirits for him.  A few minutes later a slightly inebriated woman ambled over to our perch at the bar.

“Excuse me, I just broke up with my boyfriend and would like a cigarette please” she said with just a hint of affect.

My reaction to such information has long been the optimistic “Congratulations.”

Over the course of her smoke, Katerina revealed that it was a mostly good thing and that they split because he lives two time zones away.  In an attempt to find the good news in a painful situation, I offered “That’s a good reason to split if for no other reason than the fact that he didn’t inspire you to want to move.”

Eventually Katerina thanked us for the smoke and the company and returned to her friends.  Before we left the bar, she returned twice more for a tobacco intermezzo and some of the breezy yet serious conversation that is most easily found with imperfect strangers.  On her final visit, Katerina broached the subject of the distance again.

“How do I know the difference between not wanting to move and not being inspired to move?” She asked.

“You don’t really know the difference until one exists.  In my little world, if someone really makes your socks roll up and down, you’ll want to do certain things… like move out west because that’s where he is.  Or he’d want to move here, or you two might find some hybrid between because you want home to be wherever they are.  You see, the veracity of anything we have planned for our lives is never truly known until it’s tested.  I used to think, and now think again, that I don’t want to have children.  Then one day I was knocked on my ass by a love I had never even known could exist.  That exceptional woman wanted children and it seemed like the most natural thing in the world for me to want them too.”

“I never knew that” OSSL interrupted but I was on too much of a roll to respond to his statement.

“We believe all of these things about our world and what we want and then suddenly an unordinary love comes along and shakes our sensibilities like a fucking snow globe.  Only in the face of that test are a lot of our really core ‘deal-breakers’ and ‘must haves’ really proven.  It doesn’t happen often and sometimes not even easily, but it’s that exception that you just know, that you feel in the deepest part of your soul.  Call it the Doctrine of Love’s Exceptionalism.”

In that instant, I realized two things 1) I had shifted from answering Katerina’s question and started speaking for some part of me, and 2) that I had to forgive Carrie for marrying Big.

*****

Ya know, just in case any of you ever need to know what kind of cigars your favorite restaurant refugee likes to smoke.

11 Comments | Crush with a big C, One that might have been something, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, apparently I cannot avoid an argument, bars aka where we get the booze, crush with a little c, dating, dumb things I have done, moths have candles - apparently I have hot lawyers, women | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

It’s That Time of Year Again – International Crush Day

16 February 2010

A year ago some blog friends were hosting a Happy Hour with the theme “It’s Just a Little Crush.” While a business trip kept me away from the boozefest, I extrapolated the concept to propose that 20 February be declared International Crush Day.

Among the things I wrote at the time:

I endorse, embrace, and enthusiastically support the crush.

In the same way that some would argue that the single cell organism is the purest form of life, I argue that the crush is the purest form of affection.  It is perfect, wholly contained, and needs no augment.  It can exist in a personal vacuum absent acknowledgment or reciprocity.  The Crush can be romantic, professional, artistic, vocational, social, bloggerational, and can even exist within the confines of a healthy relationship.  The crush is perfect.

To have a Crush is to engage whimsy, to embrace possibility, and in the extreme case to wrap oneself in the courage of romance.

So it’s that time again.  I encourage all of you to spend some time this Friday (International Crush Day is the rare holiday that ought to be celebrated a day in advance when falling on a weekend) declaring your appreciation to someone you’ve been crushing on.  It doesn’t matter what kind of crush it is, or whether it is based on affection or admiration.  What matters is telling someone that you like the way they make you smile when they enter a room, bend a phrase, play a horn, or curl a lip when having the first sip of coffee.  Whatever it is that makes you tingle, tell someone – across the room, or across the country, embrace the notion.

********

p.s. please feel free to re-blog this, tweet about it, Facebook it or whatever other new media thingamabob you wish.

20 Comments | Crush with a big C, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, blog friends, crush with a little c, dating, the social contract | Permalink
Posted by restaurant refugee

Winter Meme – My Answers to a Baker’s Dozen

10 February 2010

One might reasonably conclude that all of the snowed-in time might has provided me considerable time to write.  One would only be partially correct as replying to the Winter Meme I wrote last Friday is all I have been able to muster.

  1. If you had to move away from your current city, what two or three cities you’ve never visited would top your list of choices? Because we are eliminating every city I have visited, most of the world’s major cities are off limits.  Because I cannot fathom living in a non metropolitan area my top choices are: Toronto for the close proximity to NYC and, from what I can tell from television, a very cosmopolitan feel (the high quality health care doesn’t hurt,) Portland, OR for its easy access to wine regions of Oregon and California and what my buddy Jimmy contends is an incredibly livable city, Madrid because when one is considering a move, not listing at least one city with old world European charm would just be silly.
  2. What was the last thing that stayed in Vegas? I’ve never been a fan of strip clubs – something about the notion of men paying hundreds, thousands of dollars to be teased by women with whom their chances are roughly the same as John Grisham winning a Pulitzer Prize, seems a bit silly if not flat out pathetic.  However, on my last trip to Vegas, I got roped into going to a strip joint with my crew.  Upon returning from a trip to the restroom, a statuesque red head wearing an ankle length gown told me she had “instructions from my friends to take [me] in the backroom and give [me] a very special lap dance.”  For about two minutes, I forgot that she was just doing a job and didn’t really like me.  I felt like a fool for having the thought.  The last things that stayed in Vegas where a few hundred dollars in her garter and a piece of my dignity.
  3. You are about to be snowed-in for two days and can pick any non-spouse, non-romantic partner, non-one of your children to be with you.  With whom would you like to be snowed-in (real life friend, and/or person you’ve never met)? Among my real life friends, I would happily be snowed-in with my dear friend the Only Slightly Sleazy Lobbyist, there are a couple of people on my blog roll who also fit that description.  Among the people I’ve never met, Rachel Maddow, John Stewart, and Salma Hayek are the short list.
  4. What song should be kept in a case that reads “break glass in case of emergency or [insert your name here] is really depressed or being a raving lunatic? General emergency song is easy: Bobby Darrin’s 1962 live version of Mack the Knife; depressed or raving lunatic either John Coltrane & Duke Ellington’s sublime duet, Sentimental Mood, or the Tito Puente recording of Lush Life from the Concorde Years.
  5. What was the first book that changed your sensibilities? I am sure that there is a better answer than this, and if I racked my brain, I might be able to find it.  However, the first book that comes to mind and keeps coming to mind is Mad at Miles: Deals with the Devil and other Reasons to Riot by Pearl Cleage.
  6. When meeting someone of the gender to which you’re oriented (professionally, socially, casually, on a train, wherever,) what’s the first thing that you notice about them? Face, I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.  It also takes me about 3.2 seconds to notice a woman’s intellect
  7. If you won a $1,000 today – assuming that today is not the day of snowmageddon and you have all of the flexibility you could want – how would you spend it? As I write this there is another (and completely non-charming, non-funny) edition of snowmageddon falling, so today I would spend it on a team of dogs to get me far enough south such that I could fly to the Keys.  Any other day I would spend it on a new set of cufflinks, a couple of spectacular bottles of wine, and dinner.
  8. A great first date must involve ____________, and how does your answer change when in a relationship and it’s a date night? Great conversation is the easy part, I am sure that most people would say that.  I am going to assume that conversation is a given and say that a few really honest moments are essential.  Too many first dates are with people who are a cross between their own PR rep and their avatar, so give me a few really honest and unfiltered moments, and moments when I can be the same.  Regarding how my answer changes once in a relationship, it has been so long for me that I speculate and say that it would have to include an honest moment to discuss whatever might be recently problematic.  Not to suggest that something has to be problematic or that it must be discussed on date night, just that a great date night should have that kind of trust and openness that would allow for it to be discussed should we choose.
  9. Upon a final edit, I realized that this question was a duplicate of #5.  Given that I have about three minutes to publish before leaving, and all of the art and everything else is labeled with Baker’s Dozen meme, what question do you wish I would have asked? As this was my meme this doesn’t really apply.

10.  What was the worst job you’ve ever had, and how much money would you have to be paid to do that job again for a year? There was a job that almost killed me, and I cannot describe it for professional reasons.  The part of me that has too much faith in his own intellect would suggest that, armed with my current knowledge, I could easily last a year in that gig and would do it for a million dollars.  I also know that it is a moot point, and more importantly, I know that I would never take it because there are too many other things with far too much value.

11.  If you were guaranteed honest responses to any three questions, to whom would you direct questions, and what would you ask? Casting Agent for CSI Miami: Does David Caruso have pictures of you naked with a goat?  Vice President of Customer Service for Comcast, or Verizon, or Sprint, or Direct TV, et. Al: How in the name of bacon and all things holy do you still have a job?  John McCain: do you feel guilty about the choice you made back in summer 08, do you feel guilty about the ramifications of it?

12.  As you’ve gotten older, to which list have you added more items: list of romantic deal-breakers, or list of romantic must-haves? What was the latest item added to either list? Each list has seen additions and subtractions over the years.  The deal breakers list has net additions and the must-have list is probably net subtractions.  The last deal-breaking addition was the “ability to be purposefully hurtful.”  I expect that everyone can be hurtful at some point in a relationship, however, I cannot trust those who have the capacity to do so deliberately.

13.  What is your most frequently occurring day dream? Moving to some place like Savannah, GA or Providence, RI and opening a B&B… assuming that the second “B” stands for brunch because I will not be rising that early.

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Winter Meme – A Baker’s Dozen on a Lazy Friday

5 February 2010

Most of the questions in this meme were derived from a series of old letters written between me and one of my favorite people (you know who you are.)  I wish truckloads of happiness for you, my friend.

I am off to go do some snow-watching/drinking by a fireplace.  Have a good weekend all, everybody please be safe, Go Saints! And click me to see the funniest Who-Dat video ever.

  1. If you had to move away from your current city, what two or three cities you’ve never visited would top your list of choices?
  2. What was the last thing that stayed in Vegas?
  3. You are about to be snowed-in for two days and can pick any non-spouse, non-romantic partner, non-one of your children to be with you.  With whom would you like to be snowed-in (real life friend, and/or person you’ve never met)?
  4. What song should be kept in case that reads “break glass in case of emergency or [insert your name here] is really depressed or being a raving lunatic?
  5. What was the first book that changed your sensibilities?
  6. When meeting someone of the gender to which you’re oriented (professionally, socially, casually, on a train, wherever,) what’s the first thing that you notice about them?
  7. If you won a $1,000 today – assuming that today is not the day of snowmageddon and you have all of the flexibility you could want – how would you spend it?
  8. A great first date must involve ____________, and how does your answer change when in a relationship and it’s a date night?
  9. Upon a final edit, I realized that this question was a duplicate of #5.  Given that I have about three minutes to publish before leaving, and all of the art and everything else is labeled with Baker’s Dozen meme, what question do you wish I would have asked?
  10. What was the worst job you’ve ever had, and how much money would you have to be paid to do that job again for a year?
  11. If you were guaranteed honest responses to any three questions, to whom would you direct questions, and what would you ask?
  12. As you’ve gotten older, to which list have you added more items: list of romantic deal-breakers, or list of romantic must-haves? What was the latest item added to either list?
  13. What is your most frequently occurring day dream?

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And the Winners Are? Valentine’s Day Contest

2 February 2010

When I announced the Valentines Day Chef Contest, my ambition was to donate a bit of time and provide a memorable experience for someone who deserves it.  Hopefully it would be one of the things that my friend Brad calls The 100 Ways.

Thank you to everyone who sent me an email or left a comment to nominate someone – there were more than 40 of them nominating more than 60 recipients.  Reading them touched me in ways that made me want to do even more.  So instead of using Random.org to select one name to receive one dinner for two, I used the site to draw two names to each receive dinner for four.

While the increase in the dinners and diners necessitates some changes in scheduling, I will work that out with the winners. Who are:

Winner #1 nominated by I’m Gonna Break Your Heart: I’d like to nominate my friends S&B. S is a special ed teacher at a DC Charter school. B works for a non-profit that connects homeless people to city services. In short, B spends his days walking the streets of DC, rain or cold or heat, seeking out homeless and making connections with them. They are the most compassionate couple I know.

Winner #2 nominated by Mese: Let me tell you a little bit about Nicole
She is a fighter- after years in foster care she decided to work in the child welfare field to make sure other children don’t have to struggle with no support from a loving, permanent family.

She is tried and true- when given the opportunity, Nicole has ditched vacation and forgone sleep to write, speak, teach, lead- anything to help spread the word on the reasons no child should go to bed in fear or without a home.

She is committed- friends and family have been welcomed into Nicole’s home as a refuge from hardship without anything expected in return, despite her no-profit salary.

I’ll be contacting the winners via the people who nominated them and I look forward to updating all of you with stories of the dinners and hopefully a recipe or two.

Thanks again to everyone who reads, comments, and generally make this place worth populating with my scribbles.

13 Comments | Dinner Parties, blogging for a good cause, entertaining, kindness of strangers, menus and cooking | Permalink
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The Most Navel Gazing, Self Important Post I Have Ever Written

29 January 2010

While some of you may debate the accuracy of the title, I am certain that an entire post about the fact that I have finally succumbed to the gravitational force that is Twitter qualifies for the slightly hyperbolic statement.

My opposition was first rooted in the inanity and drivel that were the limited tweets that made it into my Twitter-free world.  That line of thought was muted when a friend boxed me into admitting that if I consider haiku the most difficult poetic form, it was illogical to not consider tweeting or micro-blogging the most difficult blogging form.

The more lasting opposition was born of just not finding a purpose to it.  Whenever the subject was broached I would simply state “I’ve yet to have someone make a convincing case on why I should.”  I would sit and listen and I was not swayed… until last night.

My friend, LiLu and I were talking and she was, yet again, trying to convince me to just make the step.  After a few minutes, she gave up trying to penetrate my too thick skull.  Forty minutes later the subject had changed multiple times, another round of drinks had been ordered, and she handed me her phone with the simple preface “This is what you’re missing with Twitter.”

brandyismagic: HAD’s having his first radiation treatment tonight.  Then I’m going to make him watch The Bachelor. I think he’d prefer more radiation.

For those of you not familiar with Brandy and her Hot Awesome Dude, she and her manfriend are dealing with his recent diagnosis of multiple myeloma.  They are the reason that a great number of bloggers loaned our corners of the internet to Brandy to tell their story and ask for positive thoughts.  They are the reason that even more bloggers gave their time and, ahem, singing to create the Love Harder video.  They are the reason that people all over the world have donated thousands of dollars to research a cure for this disease through the Love Harder Project.

Through all of this and against a backdrop of serious medical hardship, Brandy found a way to be funny, and poignant, and encouraging, and it made me a little misty.  And that’s what I was missing with Twitter.

While Lilu still needs to teach me the ways of Twitter, you can now follow me @restrntrefugee.

7 Comments | anti twitter, blog friends, blogging life, booze & boozing | Permalink
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A Couple of Endorsements and a Few Not So Much

27 January 2010

Not Exactly an Endorsement – It was barely four years ago that Mel Gibson revealed himself to be an Anti-Semitic jackhole.  His lunatic rants were all over the entertainment news wires.  TMZ published his arrest report, Gibson went on the typical apology tour, about which I am calling bullshit (Booze will lower inhibitions and allow one to say things that are already in his/her heart, but it won’t plant the most vile of thoughts there.)

Now about 40 months later (less than half the amount of time it took for the Holocaust… you know just to add some perspective) this filth spewing, ignorant racist (I know: redundant,) Holocaust Denier has a big budget movie from a major studio.  The trailers are all over the television and the net and I can’t look at his repugnant mug without wanting to change the channel.

An Endorsement – The Wet Martini, also known by its proper name, Martini, is a beautiful drink when well made.  Sadly, we got sold on the notion that a dry martini has virtue as opposed to being what it is: a big glass of cold gin.  Go to a good bar and ask the bartender for a real martini (you’ll know it’s a good bar if the bartender smiles with delight at the prospect) with Hendricks, or Bluecoat American Dry and a dash of Fee Brothers’ Bitters.

Not Exactly an Endorsement – Television Commercials for Anti-Depressants are clearly designed by some people who’ve never dealt with clinical depression.  Attempting to make someone who suffers from this disease feel even worse in an effort to sell more of your drugs may not be equivalent to emotional blackmail but it’s not far behind it.

An Endorsement – Buying the Suit/Dress/Whatever and then find the event later.  Maybe you host a cocktail party yourself and invite your friends to drink in all of their semi-formal finery.  Maybe you gather your friends for a night of fancy drinking just cause, or maybe you just attend one of the hundreds of charity galas held in every metropolitan area every year.  Get the threads, the event will come or you can make your own.

Not Exactly an Endorsement – Professional Football Quarterbacks who consistently blame their teammates when things go wrong.  I’m not naming any names, cough, cough, Peyton Manning, but I am pretty sure that every time it happens butterflies lose their wings, puppies get stomach aches, and maybe a large woman gets ready to sing.

12 Comments | advice I'm slightly qualified to give, bars aka where we get the booze, booze & boozing, entertaining, i didn't wake up pissed-off, open letters, the social contract | Permalink
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Visiting an Old Love – The Rest of the Story

26 January 2010

Easy banter and casual flirtation became the tangible, the inevitable on the night of my going away party.  It wasn’t my speech about why I am a horrible person to date, or YALIUD asking me why I never asked her on a date.  It became inevitable the moment the she and I caught eyes as the band started to play Besame Mucho.  It was the look of mutual agreement, of adult coconspirators acknowledging a carnal pact.

A few hours later we were a collapsed mass of tangled bodies and damp skin.  Spent but thirsty from drink and activity, I fetched two glasses of water from YALIUD’s kitchen.

“You know that I work as much as you do, right?” was the question YALIUD gently asked when I got back to the bed.

She was right, our schedules were different but the volume of hours was roughly the same.  We made a go of it for a couple of months.  Drinks after my shift, or dinner at the bar of the restaurant one or two nights a week, and most Sunday mornings – that was the routine.  And like most routines, it grew old fast.  We had lost the light, the breezy, the banter that made it so pleasurable in the first place.

When we first ended the unnamed thing that we were doing, we both had difficulty not using the other as a stress relieving crutch.  It made her career driven move to New York City easier.

We traded emails over the ensuing years, had drinks together if we were in the same city (unless one of us was dating someone else,) and somehow kept a very weak but very real tether to each other.

Last week, after the happiness and the hugs, after a cocktail or two, after the conversations about making partner and her buying her flat, after eyelashes were lowered slowly and legs crossed carefully, the question finally came.

“Refugee, why didn’t we try harder?  Why didn’t you try harder?”

“YALIUD, you know if we try to hold too tight we’ll find a way to choke it, not make it more secure.”

“Yeah, I know, but I like knowing that you’ve thought about the question too.”

5 Comments | Crush with a big C, One that might have been something, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, bars aka where we get the booze, dating, moths have candles - apparently I have hot lawyers, women | Permalink
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Moths Have Candles – Apparently I Have Hot Attorneys… or How YALIUD and I met – the Full Story

24 January 2010

YALIUD and I met back in 2004.  Close to eleven and a few times a week, she would arrive at the bar of the restaurant I was running at the time.  Three years removed from law school, she was a mid-level and fast-tracked associate at a white shoe law firm.  Most nights she would have a single malt while perusing the menu (for no good reason as she only ordered a pair of the same four things) and scribbling on a yellow legal pad.  When her appetizer arrived, she would move to a glass of red wine – whatever we recommended – and continue scribbling.  By the time the entrée arrived, she was ready to nurse her second glass and put away her work.

We were a convenient anesthetic for her as we were only a block away from her condo and we had a habit of sending her a complimentary dessert, and always ensured that someone walked her home if she had enough for that to be prudent.  The nights of her visits fluctuated, but she was always there on Tuesdays – the night that I chose to keep my bartending skills sharp.  We would always do the three drink, 45 minutes of work, maybe one more dance.  After a few weeks of regular patronage, she asked me for “a last drink of the night.”

After a few moderately successful but far from spectacular attempts, we settled on the Long Kiss Goodnight as her valedictory drink.  It was the right balance of soft, and spice, and cream and subtle for her.  She and I had the casual flirtation that is a tool a bartender’s uses more frequently than any jigger or shaker, but nothing further.

YALIUD had been coming to the restaurant for several months when I invited her to my private “Going Away” party for my last night there.  I was headed to another, higher end, restaurant.  One of the my favorite bands was going to play, one of my favorite distributors donated plenty of booze for the open bar, one of my favorite bartenders from another bar was kind enough to “guest” that night so all of the staff could attend.

“Have you ever seen the movie Good Will Hunting” YALIUD asked me as soon as she arrived at the party and before I could even say hello.

“It’s one of my favorites… according to my definition of favorites which is movies I have seen at least seven times and would watch again tonight” I replied.

“Ferfuckssaake, do you have to use every question as an excuse to pontificate?” YALIUD stated testily.

I wanted to give some variation of the “have you met me” defense but I have learned enough to know that sarcasm’s most receptive audience is not an angry woman – even more so when you don’t know why she’s angry.  I went with “Sorry – bad habit” instead.

“You know that scene in the Will and Skylar first meet in the bar?”  YALIUD said in what was only partly a question.

“Yeah” was my very cautious reply, you know the kind of “yeah” that takes almost three syllables to articulate because you’re not sure where things are going and don’t think you’ll like the destination.

“As she’s leaving she walks over to Will and says ‘You’re an idiot’”

“Right.”

“Yeah, well, you’re an idiot.  Why have you never asked me out?”

Mission Control to Mouth, Mission Control to Mouth, come in Mouth.

Mouth here, go ahead Mission Control.

Mouth, you are instructed to proceed with extreme caution.  The very attractive, and slightly annoyed woman is a notoriously dangerous creature – move forward with great care and godspeed, Mouth…. Mission Control out.

“May I get you a drink while I think of the best way to explain my obvious stupidity?”

I went behind the bar and grabbed the hidden bottle of scotch, Glen Garioch 21 year old, that I reserved for really great or really craptastic nights.   I poured two fingers into a heavy bottom rocks glass and returned to YALIUD.

“The explanation for my idiocy is more complicated than you might think” I said while placing the rich and complex single malt in her hand.  “You asked, so you’re going to get the full answer.  You are a stunning woman with a rapier wit and intelligence that you wear so gracefully.  Only a moron wouldn’t find you incredibly attractive.  But I’m in the restaurant business, which means that I generally avoid dating my guests because it’s most often bad for business.  Of course, I have made exceptions and I would be lying if I said I never thought about dating you.  The real problem is that despite the light flexibility of the aforementioned rule, there is no flexibility about staff asking out a guest.  I have fired people for doing that, so certainly couldn’t do it myself.”

YALIUD’s look made it clear that she understood my point, but I sensed a need to preempt the next question, now that I am leaving…

“And as much as I’d love to take you to dinner sometime, now that I am going to another restaurant, you should know what it’s like to date someone who runs a restaurant:

  • I will break plans with you at the last minute a minimum of three times before we actually have dinner
  • Most frequently we would only see each other after midnight
  • We would never get together on a Friday or Saturday night because I will always work those nights
  • When we do, finally, go to dinner, I will be interrupted by phone calls at least twice and leave you sitting at the table while I attempt to resolve the crisis du jour over the phone
  • I will never get to meet any of your friends unless you bring them to the restaurant, and even then I will have severely limited amounts of time to spend with you
  • Our social life will exist, by necessity, based on my schedule and there won’t be much that I can do to change that
  • I will be constantly distracted and preoccupied with thoughts of the restaurant.

“You still want to go on a date with me?”

“Wow, that was like a bad romantic comedy all condensed into forty seconds there” YALIUD replied snarkastically.  “You’re right, I probably don’t want to date you any more… taking you home is a different story though.”

7 Comments | Crush with a big C, One that might have been something, advice I'm slightly qualified to give, apparently I cannot avoid an argument, bars aka where we get the booze, crush with a little c, dating, dumb things I have done, moths have candles - apparently I have hot lawyers | Permalink
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