November 18, 2006 - Overheard at dinner
Dear Friends, sometimes I wonder if my mere presence brings out the worst in people.  Do I have a wicked aura about me?  Am I a magnet for losers, a net for the uncouth?

The other day I went to a restaurant for dinner.  The place was rather crowded, so the host seated me at a tiny table between two other tiny tables.  To my right was a man and a woman, and to my left were two men.  The two men provided me with today's blog fodder.

I can't really say that I "overheard" their conversation, because one of them was actually talking in quite a loud voice.  I'm not going to record the whole conversation, just the juicey bits followed by what was running through my mind at the time.

Man A:  I will never live in a group house again unless one of the tenants is sucking my dick in the bathroom!

Man B:  Well, I know how shy you are.

My thoughts:  What in the hell?  Why did the host have to seat me here?

Man A:  I'm almost 50, but everybody tells me I look 37.

My thoughts:  Your friends must be named Stevie Wonder, because I had you pegged for 45, honey.

Man A:  I will never say anything bad about that company, because when I worked for them, I made $18 an hour.

My thoughts:  Well, I hope that was in 1988.  Because with the prices around here, if you're still making $18 an hour, it'll be you sucking dick in the bathroom just to afford your rent.

After what seemed an eternity, they finally paid their bill and left.  Whenever I sit in such an environment, I always get a little annoyed.  But then it later occurs to me that I can write about it for all of you, dear friends, and I feel a bit better. 

Last weekend, however, I had a wonderful dinner at another restaurant where everyone was very well-behaved.  A colleague from work and I went to see a fantabulous production of "Madama Butterfly".  I really enjoyed it, although Madama Butterfly's costume and make-up made her look more like a vampire than a butterfly.  Prior to the performance, we went to a lovely French restaurant for a pre-theatre dinner.  I had duck liver pate with pistachio crust, salmon in butter sauce, potato puree with garlic, and asparagus.  Then the restaurant took us in a Mercedes over to the theatre for the performance.  At the end, the restaurant picked us up and brought us back for dessert; mine was crepes Suzette with blackberry sorbet.  What a wonderful evening!  I was actually depressed on Sunday going back to my normal routine of The Happy Heifer and my $2 vodka drinks.

In the Big City there are just so many productions worth seeing, but I don't want to go to them by myself.  However, over the years I've learned that if I want to do something, like going out to eat, I can't rely on anyone else.  Otherwise, I'd hardly ever set foot out the door.  So maybe I can start training myself to go to the theatre alone, because I do love it.  I'm thinking of going to see "The Nutcracker" next weekend even if it means going alone, because I've never seen a live production of it.  That reminds me though of a production I saw on TV one time, where I thought the dancers were parodying it.  But I'll have to tell you about that another time.

Ta for now.


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