My Dinner with ...

William Haskins said:

anyway. whatever.

in 80 years, everyone eating here will be dead.

suck on that.

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This is exactly what William said to me when we had dinner together.
Raw oysters. He slurps really loudly when he sucks them off the shell.

William,

I think this will make an awesome writing exercise!

Can we pick more than one person?

Can we do a group dinner?

I am thinking of a couple of people together that would make for a fun dinner party.

I went over to DL Hegel's for dinner, but the roast burned while she was deciding what music to play -- we couldn't choose between Thomas Dolby, Metallica, Donovan, and the Four Tops.

Still, the leopardskin drapes were a homey touch; unfortunately, we had to clear out while the firemen hosed down the kitchen. We deconstructed Vic Tayback monologues over Sufferin' Bastards at the Hawaiian restaurant on the corner.

Apparently, my culinary skills and decorating tastes--have become common knowledge. I blame Stew

Weirdest thing, when I had dinner with billythrilly he just kept saying "holla!"
I told him it was pronounce O-la in Spanish. Then I told him I had a great poem about cats. He told me i was symmetrical then yelled "Gobama" at me.




but the food was good.

Godfather is so sweet, so very, very sweet; young, too. When he slipped the scribbled note inviting me to dinner, at his place, into my jacket pocket, I took it as a fan's sentiment. It was only after returning to my lonely apartment I discovered the fragment taken from his writing journal that we had discussed over coffee. It simply said, "I'll expect you at 8:00." "Rather late", I thought.

Arriving a bit early, seven thirty to be precise, I curiously tapped the door. Ever so slightly, it opened. "Hello", I sang. "Come in", echoed back. I slipped inside.

The music was soft, the wine chilled and a bouquet of roses lay on the dinning table next to a box of Belgium chocolates. Godfather, stood over a reluctant candle. "There she is", he said, stepping back from the lit candle.

"How are you? I'm so happy to see that you took me up on my invitation." "Let me take your coat." I froze, thinking that this was to be simply a continuation of our earlier conversation over coffee.

"Godfather, thank you so much for the invitation, but I simply must have more!" "A meal of wine and chocolate is just not enough, I must have pizza!" I choked out, "My treat!" "I'll drive."

Quickwit and I had a chilidog, cheesesteak, burrito picnic. Things got a bit gassy, but because it was outdoors it was OKAY. We then had Hoo and SF over for a game of Crisco (tm) Twister, because QW mssed out on it the first time. At the end, we all sent homages to Sayulita and did shots of Cuervo. Agents rappelled down the sides of adjacent fir trees afterwards to offer us representation. Though they seemed pushy, we acquiesed.
They sent us cheesecakes and taquitos, which sealed the deal.
We ended the day with pockets full of I.O.U. vouchers from Random House, MacMillian and Borders. Quentin Tarantino kept hounding us and asking us to sign; he wanted film options.

It was so exhausting that we went for some tiramisu and bought fuzzy slippers for quiet evenings at home with our fams.

Needless to say, I'm exhausted!

All right so, due to circumstances beyond her control, Perks ends up in San Antonio for a weekend.

I find out and shoot her a PM: "Hey, while you're hear we should go get some dinner or something. You like Italian?" Which is like asking somebody if they like sunny days and oxygen, but it's impolite to presume.

She confirms that she does in fact like Italian, and my first instinct is to take her to Zio's because that's my spot, but then I think you can't take someone to a franchise spot when they're in town for the weekend. So I suggest Paesano's downtown by the Riverwalk.

It just so happens that it's Fiesta time though, and downtown is packed. We get to Paesano's and the wait is insane. Perks looks around and says, "This is wack," except she pronounces it "whack" like a Mafia murder. I don't have the heart to correct her though.

Since I'm Batman, I have a Plan B. We go to a spot called Little Italy that is owned by genuine little Italians. I recommend the pizza, she orders the ziti, I get manicotti.

Here's the thing about Perks: she's "zany." Smart, funny, and um... quippy... if that's a word? I'm usually mindful of talking too much when I first meet people, which leads to me talking too little, but she's moving the conversation. Not dominating it or getting too talky, just recognizing a lull before it happens and steering us out of that logjam in advance. It's remarkable.

Conversation moves to horror movies and novels, and here's something about Perks you may not know: her sense of humor is disturbing. Delightfully disturbing. She describes a favorite scene, the expert way it was crafted by the author or director, the brilliant execution of the brutal payoff, and she's got this radiant smile behind her eyes the entire time. It still makes me a bit twitchy to think about it, but I mean that as a compliment.

The night goes on, she makes fun of the careful-as-hell way that I eat, I make a casual joke about her apparently not seeing much sun when she lived in San Diego. Except I have this strange tendency to overdo an accent that I don't naturally have when pronouncing Spanish words.

She tells me, "It's not really called 'SAHN DAY-AH-GEAUX.' Just plain ol' San Diego, minus the breathy Banderas-ness."

And my first thought is, "Oh yeah? Well... 'wack' doesn't have an 'h' in it, so..." But that's my homie, I let it go.

The check comes and I insist on paying, she's a guest in my city after all. We say our goodbyes, I tell her that if I'm ever up north visiting she should show me around, she says sure, and that's it. Pleasant night, excellent company, good food, great convo.

I have to think about this because there are several Aw's I would enjoy a sit down with but I know My expectations, conversation, menu choice, BEVERAGE and demeanor would be different for each one. This is interesting.

MsK - Tooooooooooooooooo funny!

Tomo - I'd look on the bright side - never mind, I can't think of one.

thaaaaaaaaaaaaat is farking hilarious. I loooooooooooooove it.

Everybody should want to have a beeeeeeeeeeeeyuh or two or three or four with me. I totally rock.

So, when are we going out for beeeeeeeeeyuh?

My girls night with Bahamutchild, Neurotic, Angie and Heron

I set up everything buffet style. We all grazed. Angie took all the basic food groups: twinkees, suzy-qs, little smokies. Baha piled her plate with carrot sticks. Neuro grabbed nachos and chili. Heron dined on veggies, fruit and crackers. I, of course, had to have a little everything. We scattered ourselves in my living room. We chatted about writing, movies, music and men.

The three younger girls gravitated to my cd collection--playing a strange mix of all american rejects, julie brown, and etta james. They got up and danced. Heron showed them how to do the pony, the twist and the bus stop. The girls got a bit drunk. Heron and I are both non-drinkers.

Before we put the movie in, Angie insisted on a smoke break. She got Baha and Neuro to go outside with her. I was surprised--none of them smelled like cigarettes. Heron and I sat at the kitchen table and quietly listened to the girls drunken giggles and muffled small talk.

Minutes later, we heard a series of whiz-bangs and irate screams of a neighbor man. We raced out the back door to find the girls giggling and the old animated geezer hurling obscenties. The smell of burnt plastic laced with sweet black powder swallowed the area. The girls had slaughtered an entire flock of plastic pink flamingos.

Heron herded the other girls back in the house. I negotiated with sweet talk and a six pack of brews--to keep the old man from calling the police.

Back inside, I managed to act mad for about two seconds and busted into uncontrollable laughter. Everyone laughed. We watched out my back window as the indignant old man delicately gathered the fallen scorched flamingos. He went to pick up the last one and it's little pink neck snapped--the head bounced on the ground.

We went back to the living room to watch an Italian zombie movie. Neuro and I counted the kills while Angie and Baha played swords with a couple umbrellas I had laying around. Heron made friends with my cat Aleister K.

At the end of the evening all of the girls piled in Heron's mini-van to go home. I was told on the way they stopped to get big gulps at the 711. Angie shot off more bottle rockets at a parked car and caused a minor explosion, while Baha and Neuro cheered her on. Heron did get her big gulp and pack of bubble gum.

It was the best dinner party ever.

There are a few people. I'd have to think about it.

my prob is I do not like people who make a noise when they eat ....


HHHhhhMMmmmm ...

** looks around ***

**BuRP !!**

Pardon moi

It really, really was. I wish I'd had my camera so I could have caught the look on your face when you saw those flamingoes.

An illustrated reply with pictures

Most of the regulars in the Tea Party: Esopha, mscelina, SoccerMom, Bubastes, Jersey Chick, Ferret Guy, probably not the chihuahua thing. Just a good, old-fashioned barbecue. Pork ribs, beef brisket, chicken, hot dogs for the kids or anybody else so inclined, potato salad, baked beans, grilled corn on the cob, beer and soda/pop/soda pop, chips & dip. Dessert, we'll break out the root beer floats (Psst! Grown-ups! Yours will have an extra shot of root beer schnapps, if you want!), maybe even some cheesecake. Then of course the chihuahua thing will have to show up and ruin it for everybody... DANG IT! WHEN I SAID TO WIPE YOUR FEET WHEN YOU CAME IN, I DIDN'T MEAN ON THE MAIN COURSE, YOU NAKED MOLE RAT!...which will set off the security system... ...and they'll have to call in the cops... hooray...oh, look, it's the Special Culinary Tactical Forces... ..."Show me in the song where it says anything about squirrels getting to the cake. It only talks about rain."

"But they said you invited them, Celina! Go say hi, chihuahua thing!"

Later, if people haven't been arrested for too many crimes against food, we'll retire to the kitchen for...WAFFLES!

Wait. Sorry, guys. Gotta break it up. The bowling alley down the road called to complain about the noise.

And the moral of the story is...
This is why you never give Bud Light to otters.

THE END

I ate Serenity with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

(and she ate a whole cow first)

THE END

William Haskins said:

in 80 years, everyone posting here will be dead.

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Some of us already are.

KateThornton and auntybug came over for red beans and rice with cornbread, washed down with a few brewskis and followed by a whole 14-inch diameter cheesecake cut into quarters (Cathy was there, too).

A couple hours later, we were all having a ripping good time.

Fun stories & pics. but outta so many posts and nobody wants to have dinner w. me, that's just, just ... WRONG! I'm gonna and eats me chocolate. That'll teach yaz.

When I had dinner with KTC

We went to a good cafe' on the Place St. Michel in 1929. People walked the cobbled streets, some arm-in-arm talking about a show they were about to see; their excitement buzzed and made the evening air audible. We brought notebooks and pencils with the intention of writing while we ate.

A group of gentlemen in long coats and bow ties came in from the theater crowd. They ate and talked loudly and the waiters scurried to please them. The elite men conversed about the new generation of artists and the influx of writers trying to get their plays to the stage, stories in magazines, and poems memorized. They talked about the Paris poets most of all, and made light of their forlorn ways. At least forlorn until they sold something and then the money went to rum. When it was gone they were forlorn again. The men laughed at the poets and artists, and writers, not considering that they were the critics but also the patrons of the work, making or breaking each and every one with their words.

The waiter brought us crusty bread and a plate for olive oil. We swirled the broken bread around the oil and washed the warm, soaked bread down with a carafe of dry white wine. It tasted sharp and cleaned the palate well and the warm bread filled our bellies while we waited for the Tournedos with Sauce Bearnaise with Pommes de Terre Frites. White wine doesn't go well with this so Kevin suggested a light red. We switched to coffee when our bellies were full and declined dessert menus.

As we sipped our coffee and filled our notebooks, we noticed a young lady as she looked in the window. She cupped her hands to the glass to block the glare in search of someone. Her hat brim pressed to the window, hiding the dark fingercurls of hair. Her face was drawn down in a frown and yet maintained some angelic innocent desire. Desperation streaked through her eyes as she turned to walk from the window then they glossed to a shine. Her shoulders rose and fell with a resigned sigh as she adjusted her hat brim, so dark against the whiteness of her skin. She walked toward the Boulevard St. Germain.

And then she was gone and our night seemed fuller for having seen her there. Kevin began to write again - furious and fast and sure of the words. So did I. We agreed she was not so beautiful to look at in her features as she was beautiful in the pain she hadn't known was witnessed.

A couple of vagabond winos walked past, belligerent in song. We laughed at them and picked up the song where they left off, making up words as we went along.

We watched them weave the width of the sidewalk, how they maneuvered the uneven cobbles, nearly defying gravity. That they didn't topple over seemed the work of gods.

This was Paris after all, at a good cafe' on the Place St. Michel. It is full of gods disguised as men and angels peeking into windows looking for someone gone.

My dinner with Susie, with pictures...

Started off with some filling Canadian fare:



Then on to the main meal:









Dessert, of course, and something to wash it down with:





Afterwards, we went out and fed the leftovers to the ducks:



Then I took her out to see a movie. We had three to choose from:



Finally, we ended the day with a massage:



Absolutely perfect!

Yeshanu said:

My dinner with Susie, with pictures...

Started off with some filling Canadian fare:

Then on to the main meal:

Dessert, of course, and something to wash it down with:

Afterwards, we went out and fed the leftovers to the ducks:

Then I took her out to see a movie. We had three to choose from:

Finally, we ended the day with a massage:

Absolutely perfect!

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What a wonderful dinner and day spent with my Yeshanu! ((((((HUGS)))))). I bet we saw, "Knocked Up!" Many thx. Let's do it again soon, dinner and a movie, I mean.