|With your feet in the air and your head on the ground
||[Jan. 14th, 2001|02:04 pm]
Too much food... But I regret nothing.|
Last night I got invited to a dinner party with James and Sara. Their married friends were cooking lots of good Russian food. Yum. We had domas, which I'm sure I didn't spell right. Basically, they're grape leaves stuffed with meat and such. Very tantalizing. Also on the agenda was some luscious artichoke dip, some Georgian deviled eggs, some Russian wine (brought by us), some chocolate chip cookie dough cheesecake (kill me now), some blueberry muffins, some Greek salad, and some fabulous cheese from Central Market. Despite all of this decadence, the best part of the night was the conversation. We just sat around and talked about all sorts of stuff: Politics, Russia, etc, til about midnight.
But the night was still young. You don't meet women by hanging around in apartments, so when we got back to Sara and James's place, we called Wes. We all met down on 6th Street around 1:00 am. It was REALLY crowded, owing to the fact that it was a 3-day weekend AND all the students had just gotten back into town. Parking took FOREVER, and we ultimately ended up paying five bucks to park in a lot. Yuck.
Once assembled, we journeyed over to the Aquarium, where several interesting things happened. First of all, I came to the realization that I am extremely short. Everyone one there was taller than me. So that's mildly disconcerting. Of course, my dashing good looks and high IQ put them all to shame, so I guess everything balances out in the end.
At one point, we were up on the second level of the Aquarium, sitting down and staring out into 6th street. We got to watch a guy get beat down by mounted police. We're still not sure what he did, but it was interesting. They circled around him, somehow got him on the ground, and "maced" the hell out of him. Then, minutes later an honest-to-goodness paddywagon showed up and they carted him away. To add insult to injury one of the horses.. ummm... went number 2 right outside the bar's entrance. So for the rest of the night, we got to watch drunk people walk in the stuff. One woman was even pushed into the stuff by some guy she was with. Bleh.
But that's not the most amazing thing that happened last night . Drum roll, please...
I was actually hit on by an attractive woman. Her name was Stacy, and she was coherent and everything. It's such an odd thing, though, this whole bar scene. I mean, there's no excuse to talk to someone. Ultimately, you just have to be like "Hey. My name is Stacy. Who are you?", which is more or less what she did.
So chalk one point up for my new haircut. Now all I need are some platform shoes.