It Came from OTP
I'm beginning to dread questions like "What have you been up to?" or "How was your week?" My life is pretty consistent, pleasant and free of incidents. By all measures I'm fit and successful with plenty of books, hobbies, games and movies to keep me amused. I have healthy emotional boundaries with all of my friends who are independent low maintenance people.
However I fear that I've become completely boring and I've not yet developed the talent for turning seemingly mundane events into elaborate and amusing stories. But I'm going to try anyway: This weekend I had dinner.... Outside the Perimiter.
I always feel like I have to restrain myself from making classist or disparaging comments in mixed company -- like a friend's birthday party. When I arrived people asked me if I liked Italian food. "Yes, I'm travelling to the culinary capital of Italy to eat at some of their Michellin Star restaurants," comes off as a bit over the top so I resorted to a "Yeah."
The place is called Ippolito's in Sandy Springs and it's worth a visit once just for the very unsettling mixed media Nagel knockoff that's hanging in the hallway to the restrooms. It's a woman on a motorcycle but the front part of the bike is in three dimensions and she stares at you intently... Almost angry.
The wine list featured a depressingly paltry selection of italian wines. There wasn't even a prosecco or anything besides Chianti for that matter. Rather than point this out, I just closed the wine list and ordered a Stella.
Obviously I could also lay into the fact that they had checkered table cloths or the fact that other patrons were looming around the dining area for tables to open up. I've eaten at some of the best Italian restaurants in the world and that sort of commentary comes off as petty. And if people knew I was like this I'd probably never get taken anywhere.
Of course after a couple beers I did end up saying all of this stuff in one shape form or fashion over the course of the meal. And I did have a good time for a dinner that cost, with tax and tip, less than an entree at one of the places I eat with Russell.
So there you have it. This is my life-- Novelty and adventure is eating somewhere that doesn't give you a salad fork.
EDIT: I should also mention that there was a copy of The Bell Curve by the bar. For those have forgotten, it's the book that says black people are less intelligent. I don't know if a patron brought it or what but it's certainly not something I would ever bring to or display in a public place.