Last night as I was getting ready to go meet Mel, X and friends for dinner at Bambuddha Lounge, I got a text from Big Chris.
"Wanna get drinks?"
Hmmmm, Chris at the Bambuddha Lounge with the suits. "Sure! I'm on my way to meet some friends." I texted back. I gave him the cross streets and told him it might be "grown-ups."
My phone glowed with his response. "Whatever."
As we sat down to dinner, I wondered how my "burrito buddy" would blend. I mean, after all, this is the guy who built a pyramid of his empty Tecate cans at my parents' dinner party. As the other half of the dinner table dove into a discussion on like, domestic policy, Chris leans over at me and out of the corner of his mouth goes, "Who the hell are these people?"
An hour later, he had the game room of Le Club in hysterics as he dealt cards and tossed out chips around the poker table.
That'll learn me for worrying about my burrito buddy, who was sitting in a crocodile chair in his Air Jordans, telling me to fold while stealing my champagne and wrestling with Melissa...