I am always shocked to find someone reading this blog whom I don’t know incredibly well. In fact, some of my best friends hate it, finding the blog an appalling waste of time and yet another way for me to get myself in trouble. Both are probably true. Occasionally, however, some will stumble upon this rambling manifesto and somehow get the subtle genius of it.
One of those people is Laura, a gifted blogger herself. Laura and I have taken to obsessively commenting on each other’s blogs, discovering that we have a freakish amount in common. I mean, who else watches Laguna Beach with as much fervor and dedication as myself?
Last week, we decided it was ridiculous that we haven’t met, Laura living just over the bridge in no man’s land. (Berkeley.) Thus, Friday night, after much e-mailing back and forth, we settled on dinner and then wild, unabashed drinking. To quote Laura, “Hangovers be damned!”
Laura met me at 916A and we headed over to Sauce Restaurant in Hayes Valley to meet Zoë for dinner. I never realized just how much of my real life is on my blog.
“You like vodka tonics with lime, right?”
“Yes!” With that, Laura introduced me to some spectacular Hangar One fancy lime vodka that blew my mind. Laura, I love you.
Waited on by Antonia Sabato’s twin, we sipped vodka and wine and dined on incredible food. My vegetarian strudel was fantastic, a medley of cheese and vegetables wrapped in phyllo swimming in tomato cream sauce. Laura not only knew all about the trials and tribulations of my personal life, she knew all the wacky characters, possessing an uncanny obsession with Big Chris, whom she’s convinced is a genius. I’m almost as familiar with Laura’s posse of pals, although she’s got the sense not to use their real names. Probably wise, but the only way to describe Big Chris is well, Big Chris.
After a spectacular dinner and a sampling of Zoë’s “Love in a bowl”, we put Zoë in a cab and headed over to Hotel Biron, an oft written about wine bar that Laura frequents. Not only had I been mispronouncing it, I pictured it completely differently. I thought it was a real hotel. Nope. It’s this divine hidden Euro-nook in an alley, packed with trendy yuppies and spectacular wine. Perfectly lit by candles, we settled in a table and Laura announced, “I’ll go get the first bottle.”
Nice. Sipping from huge and spectacular wine glasses, we divulged our deepest darkest secrets. I found myself telling Laura tidbits that very few are privy to. It was marvelous. Because the strange must follow me wherever I go, a gentleman soon approached with a bag of Skittles.
“Can I offer you some Skittles?”
Laura declined, but as we all know, I’m never one to turn down candy from strangers and gladly accepted. His name was Nick, I believe, and he would reappear every so often, placing another lone Skittle upon our table and winking at me. Soon, it was time to get another bottle of wine, and I headed over to the bar. As I shimmied my way in, a very fucking good looking guy started rubbing the small of my back. Umm, okay. To our left, a stunningly thin woman was showing off an engagement ring the size of my head. She looked up at me as I mouthed, “Fabulous.” and laughed appreciatively. This was one amazing ring and soon, the collection of admiring woman were congratulating the groom-to-be on his fine selection. Turns out, the groom-to-be likes to rub the backs of strange women mere inches from his fiancé. I grabbed my wine and split, thanking my lucky stars that while my fingers were diamond free, I was still in possession of my soul and my dignity.
Laura and I chatted away, enjoying spectacular wine in a fabulous new bar. “I’m so coming back here, and we’re bringing my friend Jason. He’d love it here.”
“Jason? Which one is Jason.”
“Jason is Metro.” I remembered, Laura suddenly being entirely familiar with each and every comment from Jason’s blog pseudonym. In all of my stories, I’d drop a name and Laura’s day, “Oh, Andy! How’s Andy? How old is Margot? Which Chris is New Chris?”
It’s so tremendously fun meeting a new person from whom you appear to be separated at birth and entirely convenient that she already knows the basics. It also made me realize that I put approximately 75% of my personal life on the internet. That can’t be good.
Big Chris had been calling, urging us to meet him at Medjool. As we were finishing up our wine, a gentleman in suit and tie came over and tried to speak to us, so drunk he found it difficult to form words. He was so inebriated, in fact, I decided to tell him so. Laura announced we were leaving and Drunk suit decided to walk us out. He introduced himself as “Skipper Turner” and repeatedly expressed that he had more money than god. He couldn’t stand upright, he kept removing his tie and he had no idea where he was. It was mildly entertaining and mildly sad.
We headed over to the Mission and Laura actually spotted Chris before I did. “There he is! That’s him! Big Chris!!!“ Settled into a booth, Chris proclaimed he’d had 20 beers as Laura handed him one more. With that, the lights flickered and came blaring on, blinding us and reminding us it was time to go.
Oh yeah. This is what happens when you stay out so late, the bar closes before you do.
Chris split and so did we, Laura crashing at 916A. We awoke, predictably hungover but delighted with our fabulous Friday night. Even Zoe and Chris called, loving our new Laura.
And with that, I have a new friend! Don’t you love it when that happens? Welcome to the circle, Laura. Get ready to be featured in a blog other than your own…
* Laura's fabulous version of the night's events...