Enchante...that's French!
Dinner with bebot ko at Beaujolais in Eagle Rock last night. They've got live jazz from a trio (with occasional contributions from a deep, smoky alto) on Wednesdays, and the first tune I heard as I met my girl at the table was "My Romance".
"All alone, I can make the most fantastic dreams come true
My romance doesn't need a thing but you."
She wore a form-fitting black skirt and black sleeveless turtle neck. A faintly blue and silver bracelet on her left wrist, slingbacks and a salt-and-pepper jacket (layers, California; layers!) I've seen her pillage from her sister's closet several times already.
We had smoked salmon with seared onions and peppered greens for an appetizer, and her sweetness and smile and sense of humor melted away my road rage (two hours on four freeways...I had to resort to overtone singing to keep myself sane). (Note to self: never, ever, under any circumstances, take the 405N at 5 p.m. What was I thinking? I wasn't; I just wanted to see her!)
She had pasta with shrimp, scallops and portobello mushrooms in a white sauce with a glass of white; I had a steak lathered with parsley butter and garlic and a red, a Coury, I think. (How did I make it through my early years of red wine worship without any red meat? My God. What was wrong with me!)
The trio (quartet) -- bass, guitar and flugelhorn -- swung through "The Shadow of Your Smile" and "Beautiful Love", which I like to play as a bossa (kind of like "Blue Bossa"), with a D minor montuna, thanks to Neal Creque, the Virgin Islander who was my teacher at Oberlin.
All was right with the world. I looked at her and couldn't believe I was more in love with her today than I was the day before!
Her sister, L., and her boyfriend, Tommy, showed up and took another table at 8. It was time for creme brulee and espresso drinks for us.
We strolled, afterward, in the twilight, and the ease of being with her felt like a blessing. We passed a closed but still-lit diner, right out of an Edward Hopper, but we didn't belong in a Hopper: we belonged in a photograph by Robert Doisneau.
I'm nuts about this girl. And it seems like she's kind of fond of me too. :D
On a lark, I booked a ticket to meet her in Boston next week, where she's having a conference for work (for art and design). Any ideas, kaibigan ko, for evening jaunts in the Hub?
"All alone, I can make the most fantastic dreams come true
My romance doesn't need a thing but you."
She wore a form-fitting black skirt and black sleeveless turtle neck. A faintly blue and silver bracelet on her left wrist, slingbacks and a salt-and-pepper jacket (layers, California; layers!) I've seen her pillage from her sister's closet several times already.
We had smoked salmon with seared onions and peppered greens for an appetizer, and her sweetness and smile and sense of humor melted away my road rage (two hours on four freeways...I had to resort to overtone singing to keep myself sane). (Note to self: never, ever, under any circumstances, take the 405N at 5 p.m. What was I thinking? I wasn't; I just wanted to see her!)
She had pasta with shrimp, scallops and portobello mushrooms in a white sauce with a glass of white; I had a steak lathered with parsley butter and garlic and a red, a Coury, I think. (How did I make it through my early years of red wine worship without any red meat? My God. What was wrong with me!)
The trio (quartet) -- bass, guitar and flugelhorn -- swung through "The Shadow of Your Smile" and "Beautiful Love", which I like to play as a bossa (kind of like "Blue Bossa"), with a D minor montuna, thanks to Neal Creque, the Virgin Islander who was my teacher at Oberlin.
All was right with the world. I looked at her and couldn't believe I was more in love with her today than I was the day before!
Her sister, L., and her boyfriend, Tommy, showed up and took another table at 8. It was time for creme brulee and espresso drinks for us.
We strolled, afterward, in the twilight, and the ease of being with her felt like a blessing. We passed a closed but still-lit diner, right out of an Edward Hopper, but we didn't belong in a Hopper: we belonged in a photograph by Robert Doisneau.
I'm nuts about this girl. And it seems like she's kind of fond of me too. :D
On a lark, I booked a ticket to meet her in Boston next week, where she's having a conference for work (for art and design). Any ideas, kaibigan ko, for evening jaunts in the Hub?