Big Gay Supper Club
So, having decided that I need to get out more and meet some ATL folks, I found out about a dinner group that meets once a month, the 'Big Gay Supper Club'. The idea is that it provides a place for gay men/women to gather for a nice meal and get a break from the bar/club/rest-area between here and Madison scene. They met last night and I'm very happy to say that the evening went very well-- if a bit expensive towards the end.
The meal was set at $35, but after adding in the drinks, tax, and gratuity the total for the night was about $75, but still worth it and it wouldn't be that dire a sum if I was working more than I am.
The restaurant was 'Spice', which was supposed to be loosely Asian-themed, although they have a new chef (it was one of 'those' places, where they tell you the chef's name and where he's been, perhaps so that I can tick off some scorecard that I keep on the area's culinary geography). Perhaps the new chef is why they don't seem to be holding with the Asian-side of things, you'll see what I mean.
I walk in and approach the maitre d's podium and was directed immediately to the left where there was a rather crowded bar area. The first hour or so of the night was to be cocktails, so my plan was to get inside, get a drink, then find one or more of the following:
a) someone that looked like someone I'd enjoy waking up next to (self-explanatory)
b) someone who's place I wouldn't mind seeing (think of that what you will)
c) someone that looked like a good conversationalist (nothing worse than being bored)
d) someone that looked fun and approachable (but not overly bubbly as I'd then have to find someone else shortly afterwards to rescue me)
e) someone else that looked alone and without a clue (misery loves company).
Not that I had an agenda or anything [although, I don't know how many times I can hit snooze on my biological clock before it breaks].
I got a gin & tonic with two limes and set about trying to find my dinner victim, I mean, company. I thought that I'd spotted a group of e-type folks (see chart above), but just as I was approaching them, BAM, a large group of folks (mainly of the overly-d-set-off-a-five-mile-radius-of-smoke-detectors-type) swooped in and joined them.
So, I turned around and set myself to looking for someone else. I was feeling a bit dispairaged, until I spotted a nice looking guy and a lovely gal chatting just inside the bar area. Now, at first, I'd not looked at either as they were a guy/girl couple and I don't like being a homewrecker, but then I remembered where I was and approached them. The lady smiled and I said, 'Do you mind if I crash this conversation? It's my first time at one of these.'
Suddenly, I had found my table-companions! Rita, the lady, was great and easily fits the b, c, and d categories, as did Stuart, her neighbour's best friend. She's been coming to the BGSC since it began four years ago and she said that I had found the right person to show me around. She was right. She introduced me to one of the organizer's (total a-type, with bits of c/d) and a few other friends. She then asked if I had a table yet, I said that I hadn't, then she had, 'nonsense, you're with us'. Meanwhile, we'd caught up with Jim, her neighbour and Stuart's bestfriend, who loved my little one-liners (when I get nervous, I become a bit of a peanut-gallery of one-- probably got the trait from Mom).
After having drinks and moving away from the crowded bar area, we met up with Joe and his boyfriend Skip, who made up the rest of our table. We had somehow claimed this great semi-circular booth that overlooked most of the rest of the patrons. It felt a bit like we were holding court at some huge dinner banquet. We even had a jester, Jason Jupiter (or somesuch), the resident drag performer, who was wearing a ruffled shirt/smoking jacket ensemble and had this plastic hairpiece, so that he looked liked he and Ken (of Barbie fame) shared a barber. Although, come to think of it, he didn't do anything more than hang out at the bar, drink, and keep us company when we had ciggies.
The dinner menu was as follows:
Starter: Calamari (which I'm not a fan of, but I don't actively dislike)
1st Course: (choice of) White Asparagus or Radiccio and something Salad (I commented that I was single, so I could happily have the Asparagus. It was not the best I've had, but good enough.)
2nd Course: Some sort of freshly made tortelinni with artichoke hearts and gorgonzola (very good-- although a bit heavy with the sauce)
Main Course: (choice of) Herb Roasted Monkfish, Barded Pork Loin (my choice-- just a pork loin wrapped in bacon, then serverd with what were supposed to be haricut vert, but looked/felt/tasted like green asparagus-- they had a deal with an asparagus merchant, I suspect), or 'Chicken and Dumplings' (which was a chicken breast atop of some dumpling like lumps, but the bit that Rita shared with me was rather tasty).
Dessert: Strawberry Shortcake (served with two sliced strawberries, a tiny lump of strawberry sorbet, some creme fraiche, atop of a biscuit. Now, I'd always thought that Shortcake was just that, a 'short' 'cake', not a biscuit, but who am I to argue with Chev Whoeverheisfromwhereverhelastwas).
During the meal, we had 2 lovely bottles of red and a white (which I assumed was okay). This was where the first bone of contention amongst the table formed. Joe had quite a few glasses, while the rest of us had a civilized glass and a half or so. What made matters worse was when the very inebriated Joe started telling us that we couldn't leave the table (Stuart had left to go to the restroom and Rita made a comment about mingling with other dinners) until the bill was paid. It seems that at the last BGSC that Joe and Skip attended, they got stuck with a $600 bill.
His desire to not have to pay for everyone was understandable, especially after being burned so badly before, but he just couldn't let it go. Even after we had all given him our cards and told him to split the bill 6 ways, he kept going on about it to the point that Stuart said that he didn't appreciate the insinuation that he'd squelch on a dinner, to which Joe said, 'that's not what i'm saying', to which Stuart replied, 'Then, stop saying it.' Thankfully, we were able avoid a full blown cat fight as the server came and I explained how to bill us.
After the bill was paid, Skip thanked us all (and quitely appologized for Joe's behaviour) and left. Rita, Stuart, Jim, and I went back to the bar for another drink (Stuart and I had coffees, as we were driving). We then had a nice cathartic gripe about Joe's behaviour, but decided that it was really not that bad and didn't spoil the evening-- if anything, it added a bit of color.
Rita asked for my number, so that she could invite me to dinner at hers some night soon. Earlier in the night, she'd said that I would love Atlanta (I'd told them how I'd just moved here) and that she'd help fix me up with someone. I told her that I'd love it if she did. I do hope that she calls soon. She was a hoot and I'd love to see her, Jim, and Stuart again.
So, next month, I shall definitely go to the next Big Gay Supper Club. Might even bring the brother, but I'm not sure at this point, I sort of liked how being alone in a new group of people reminded me of my life in Europe. I might give myself another night of that feeling before Don comes. It's not that I don't have a great time with him, it's just that one behaves differently when with family than one does when not. Less perceptoins of expectations or somesuch, I guess.
Now to find a job that pays better, so that I can afford next month's dinner!
The meal was set at $35, but after adding in the drinks, tax, and gratuity the total for the night was about $75, but still worth it and it wouldn't be that dire a sum if I was working more than I am.
The restaurant was 'Spice', which was supposed to be loosely Asian-themed, although they have a new chef (it was one of 'those' places, where they tell you the chef's name and where he's been, perhaps so that I can tick off some scorecard that I keep on the area's culinary geography). Perhaps the new chef is why they don't seem to be holding with the Asian-side of things, you'll see what I mean.
I walk in and approach the maitre d's podium and was directed immediately to the left where there was a rather crowded bar area. The first hour or so of the night was to be cocktails, so my plan was to get inside, get a drink, then find one or more of the following:
a) someone that looked like someone I'd enjoy waking up next to (self-explanatory)
b) someone who's place I wouldn't mind seeing (think of that what you will)
c) someone that looked like a good conversationalist (nothing worse than being bored)
d) someone that looked fun and approachable (but not overly bubbly as I'd then have to find someone else shortly afterwards to rescue me)
e) someone else that looked alone and without a clue (misery loves company).
Not that I had an agenda or anything [although, I don't know how many times I can hit snooze on my biological clock before it breaks].
I got a gin & tonic with two limes and set about trying to find my dinner victim, I mean, company. I thought that I'd spotted a group of e-type folks (see chart above), but just as I was approaching them, BAM, a large group of folks (mainly of the overly-d-set-off-a-five-mile-radius-of-smoke-detectors-type) swooped in and joined them.
So, I turned around and set myself to looking for someone else. I was feeling a bit dispairaged, until I spotted a nice looking guy and a lovely gal chatting just inside the bar area. Now, at first, I'd not looked at either as they were a guy/girl couple and I don't like being a homewrecker, but then I remembered where I was and approached them. The lady smiled and I said, 'Do you mind if I crash this conversation? It's my first time at one of these.'
Suddenly, I had found my table-companions! Rita, the lady, was great and easily fits the b, c, and d categories, as did Stuart, her neighbour's best friend. She's been coming to the BGSC since it began four years ago and she said that I had found the right person to show me around. She was right. She introduced me to one of the organizer's (total a-type, with bits of c/d) and a few other friends. She then asked if I had a table yet, I said that I hadn't, then she had, 'nonsense, you're with us'. Meanwhile, we'd caught up with Jim, her neighbour and Stuart's bestfriend, who loved my little one-liners (when I get nervous, I become a bit of a peanut-gallery of one-- probably got the trait from Mom).
After having drinks and moving away from the crowded bar area, we met up with Joe and his boyfriend Skip, who made up the rest of our table. We had somehow claimed this great semi-circular booth that overlooked most of the rest of the patrons. It felt a bit like we were holding court at some huge dinner banquet. We even had a jester, Jason Jupiter (or somesuch), the resident drag performer, who was wearing a ruffled shirt/smoking jacket ensemble and had this plastic hairpiece, so that he looked liked he and Ken (of Barbie fame) shared a barber. Although, come to think of it, he didn't do anything more than hang out at the bar, drink, and keep us company when we had ciggies.
The dinner menu was as follows:
Starter: Calamari (which I'm not a fan of, but I don't actively dislike)
1st Course: (choice of) White Asparagus or Radiccio and something Salad (I commented that I was single, so I could happily have the Asparagus. It was not the best I've had, but good enough.)
2nd Course: Some sort of freshly made tortelinni with artichoke hearts and gorgonzola (very good-- although a bit heavy with the sauce)
Main Course: (choice of) Herb Roasted Monkfish, Barded Pork Loin (my choice-- just a pork loin wrapped in bacon, then serverd with what were supposed to be haricut vert, but looked/felt/tasted like green asparagus-- they had a deal with an asparagus merchant, I suspect), or 'Chicken and Dumplings' (which was a chicken breast atop of some dumpling like lumps, but the bit that Rita shared with me was rather tasty).
Dessert: Strawberry Shortcake (served with two sliced strawberries, a tiny lump of strawberry sorbet, some creme fraiche, atop of a biscuit. Now, I'd always thought that Shortcake was just that, a 'short' 'cake', not a biscuit, but who am I to argue with Chev Whoeverheisfromwhereverhelastwas).
During the meal, we had 2 lovely bottles of red and a white (which I assumed was okay). This was where the first bone of contention amongst the table formed. Joe had quite a few glasses, while the rest of us had a civilized glass and a half or so. What made matters worse was when the very inebriated Joe started telling us that we couldn't leave the table (Stuart had left to go to the restroom and Rita made a comment about mingling with other dinners) until the bill was paid. It seems that at the last BGSC that Joe and Skip attended, they got stuck with a $600 bill.
His desire to not have to pay for everyone was understandable, especially after being burned so badly before, but he just couldn't let it go. Even after we had all given him our cards and told him to split the bill 6 ways, he kept going on about it to the point that Stuart said that he didn't appreciate the insinuation that he'd squelch on a dinner, to which Joe said, 'that's not what i'm saying', to which Stuart replied, 'Then, stop saying it.' Thankfully, we were able avoid a full blown cat fight as the server came and I explained how to bill us.
After the bill was paid, Skip thanked us all (and quitely appologized for Joe's behaviour) and left. Rita, Stuart, Jim, and I went back to the bar for another drink (Stuart and I had coffees, as we were driving). We then had a nice cathartic gripe about Joe's behaviour, but decided that it was really not that bad and didn't spoil the evening-- if anything, it added a bit of color.
Rita asked for my number, so that she could invite me to dinner at hers some night soon. Earlier in the night, she'd said that I would love Atlanta (I'd told them how I'd just moved here) and that she'd help fix me up with someone. I told her that I'd love it if she did. I do hope that she calls soon. She was a hoot and I'd love to see her, Jim, and Stuart again.
So, next month, I shall definitely go to the next Big Gay Supper Club. Might even bring the brother, but I'm not sure at this point, I sort of liked how being alone in a new group of people reminded me of my life in Europe. I might give myself another night of that feeling before Don comes. It's not that I don't have a great time with him, it's just that one behaves differently when with family than one does when not. Less perceptoins of expectations or somesuch, I guess.
Now to find a job that pays better, so that I can afford next month's dinner!