Oh, Fridays. I love you.
I met Mel, Tara, Pooj and Vansmack at Soluna, some 90's joint by City Hall where policy wonks think they're cool for eating tapas. Mel and I had plans to go to dinner at Fog City and then meet up with X and his friends at Kokkari. Those plans quickly flew out the window once Lefty's was mentioned.
But the concept of dinner there wasn't kosher with the crew (um, ask me the parking story) so we grabbed a bar table at The Daily Grill (thank you Tara) and I ordered (wine and) the $4.50 side of "risotto." Number one, I was having wine because Tim the Trainer sent me a link with the calories in cocktails. Gibsons? Yeah, 210. As Tim the Trainer pointed out, I have to run two miles for each Gibson. Shit. Number two, folks, this risotto was rice with peas in it. I ate one of Tara's quesadilla triangles and some of Vansmack's coleslaw and was like, "Alright, we're missing shit at Lefty's. Frank started 15 minutes ago!"
Frank, god bless him, recognized Mel and I instantly. And again, started in with the "Melissa is horny routine." This, again, prompted the biggest losers in the joint to approach Mel, pass her notes (oh yes, we saved it), try and share their pitcher of beer, etc. I'm a snob, so you know, this is nothing new but gentlemen, look who you're trying to talk to. Melissa, much to my horror, is a stunning and hilarious attorney in a designer size nothing dress who just climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro. For fun. You sir, on the other hand, are in Dockers and a $4 haircut, in town from a moderately priced St. Louis suburb and have communication devices attached to your belt. This would be like me stumbling over to Clooney in my favorite sweatpants whilst chomping on a hot dog and handing him a ripped piece of cocktail napkin with a grammatically incorrect note upon it.
He'd take a pass, I'm guessing.
Pager couldn't take a hint.
He came over to Tara and I while Mel was in the ladies. "Tell me something about Melissa."
"Okay. She's my wife."
"She. Is. My. Wife."
And then Tara deadpans, "Welcome to San Francisco."
So Pager screams across the bar to his friend, "You were right! Oh my god, you were SO right!"
I took a sip of my wine and looked at him. "I'm just fucking with you."
Which is when Mel returned and Frank worked "Little Melissa is back from the toilet" into a song.
Okay. That's our cue. It was time to meet X, K and T at Michael Mina. So we all headed over to fancy pants bar and friends, the transition was bracing. Fuck it, Tim the Trainer. Someone get me a $17 Gibson! I've been slumming it.
Which is when K announced, "Have you ever been to Martuni's?"
Oh hell yes.
Mel, Tara and Pooj headed home. As Mel put on her coat, she looked at me. "You sleeping over?"
Um, Martuni's, bitch. See ya.
I've loved Martuni's since my homos took me there for cabaret and Claret circa 2002. And the last time I was there, I said to Devine, "You know who'd love this? X."
"No he wouldn't."
Yep. He does.
Dude, he wanted to sing.
Martuni's is that awesome. Duh...