There is always an interesting mix of people in Marco Polo. A few old school gangsters from back in the day. Neighborhood people. A large contingent of African Americans who think of this restaurant as the top of the line in dining in Italian food. Very few yuppie scum or hipster shitheads. But a few. They mainly go to the more well known and advertised crap-fests like "Buttermilk Channel" and "Prime Meats." Now none of the people were the problem. It was the couple that was sitting next to us.
It was an older guy who was in his fifties. My age. With a young girl who was about twenty five or so. She was wearing a very revealing silk top and her best jeans. He was a lawyer and she worked in his office. I didn't get if she was a young lawyer or a secretary. Anyhoo he was trying to impress her with his knowledge of the cuisine and his ability to order dishes off the menu. The owner came over to say hello. Of course then he turned and sat down at our table. But enough of that. This dude was working it. Giving her the benefit of his experience. She was eating it up. Along with the food. The only problem was she went to the bathroom after every course. I was pretty sure she was puking. So it was all in all pretty funny. I really didn't want to listen and tried really hard not to do so. The wife and I chatted away and talked to the owners and all of the waiters who all came over to say hello. We managed to not get to hear a lot of what was said. But what we hear was some stupid bullshit. Man what a joke. I hoped this douche argues better when he is court than when he is trying to impress some twat who he wants to get in the sack.
Jeez. I just wanted to enjoy my cocktail.
43 comments:
Cocktail is such a fitting word. It reminds me of a favorite German word for "glove": Hand shoe.
Okay, humor me, why was the young gal throwing up after every course?
I'll go out on a limb and guess bulimia.
Bulimia was my guess too. What a waste. But waste is of no concern to many. And who knows? maybe they're right. Hatred of waste for me is probably a thousand years of will we have enough potatoes to get through winter. Which is stupid if you have no such memory. Racial memory. Which we all know doesn't exist. Well, according to the deracinated.
We don't go out for dinner as much as we used to. It once was important that we hit every new restaurant right after they opened, or go to a place we hadn't tried after reading a good review.
Not sure why we tapered off, but it was probably because we got tired of being around pretentious hipsters in every place we went. Hey, I'm glad people dine out; Lord knows running a restaurant is a tough business, and every dollar counts. They just don't have to be dickwads in the process.
Anyhow, when we go out now it is usually for Saturday lunch or a weeknight stop at an Irish place a few blocks away.
We had lunch at our favorite place today - Sobelman's. It's an almost-dive bar, but won a Food Channel "best hamburger" contest. Our routine is to always sit at the bar (never at a table), have a couple of beers and a good burger.
Making a good burger is not easy. Everything has to be perfect, just perfect, or the whole assembly is lousy. Sobelman's and another joint - AJ Bombers - both get it right every time. If not, why even go out? Just cook at home.
So we're a the bar today talking to each other about stuff we have going on in the family, and the dang bartender thinks we need to hear his life story. I hate that. Maybe we smile too much, I dunno, but it seems like bartenders and waitresses are always telling us about their boyfriends, girlfriends, issues, etc. I want to say "if you're telling me your troubles, I'm going on the clock" but I'm usually too polite. So I keep food in my mouth so I can't talk.
Maybe I should pretend to be deaf. Or a Yankees fan.
Fortunately, I have one of those faces that look "forbidding" even though I'm a sweetheart. So people never tell me their troubles. Its a good thing, I'd probably give them unwanted advice or tell them to vote Republican.
I'll be back in 40 days or so.
Is that penance or alienation or ennui, chick?
I'm hoping it's an idle threat.
I hate people.
Some asshole hit my menu board last night. He came back today, took pictures, and is demanding I pay for the damages to his truck. I told him I wasn't responsible for his actions while sitting in his vehicle. That's why it's so expensive to eat out. Assholes like that drive up the cost of everything for everybody else.
It's just like the assholes next to Trooper. They ruin the experience of everyone else within earshot. When our kids were little...I mean like 2 and 3...we told them that nobody in the restaurant was paying to hear them make a racket. Obviously, Trooper's dinner companions didn't have a bastard like me as a dad.
I hate people.
Is that penance or alienation or ennui, chick?
Penance ennui
It's just like the assholes next to Trooper. They ruin the experience of everyone else within earshot. When our kids were little...I mean like 2 and 3...we told them that nobody in the restaurant was paying to hear them make a racket. Obviously, Trooper's dinner companions didn't have a bastard like me as a dad.
When I was little--I must have been four or so and just forming lasting memories--my parents took me and my brother to eat at a local supper club. It wasn't a real swanky place but was sit down with separate tables. According to my mother, a gentleman across the room caught my attention and so I pointed and shouted: "Look mom, that man looks just like Magilla Gorilla!
Can you imagine how my parents must have felt?
Was he for sale?
I can't give up chicken for forty days.
I asked my mother later on whether the guy was African American which would have been even worse. He wasn't . Growing up, I knew only one person of color the entire K through 12. But that was then and there, and all too typical. Things change. My daughter is the token blonde at her middle school.
"Token Blonde" would be a great name for a band.
I used to go out to dindin all the time. Now, not so much. I don't like being around pretentious people and there are tons of them in my hood. I do still get carry out or take out though a couple times a week.
Today is very nice here. Went to Marblehead walked the beach and you will never guess what I saw?
First, you must know Marblehead is big time money and filled with beautiful multi million dollar mansions and most of the beaches are "private"-you have to have a Marblehead sticker to park there during the summer months. During the winter and spring the rest of us losers get to experience the fabulousness. Anyhoo, we were walking with the rare clumber and about 500 feet away, around a decent amount of people, a woman squatted. She was squatting for like 5 minutes and then pulled up her pants. I just stopped and watched. Once she finished I had to go over to the squat area to do an inspection. And when I got there she left a bloody tampon on the beach. I almost threw up and the rare clumber almost picked it up. I practically fainted at the sight of the completely absorbed bloody tampon. Some of the blood was kind of chunky too-I imagined it must of mixed in with some poop or vas deferan lining material while it was parachuting down the hole to cause the nugget balls.
It is an image I will never get out of my head and will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Now, if there ever was a good time, this is it...group hug.
thanks dolls.
The second Craigie On Main (a fantastic resy) is opening across from my expensive fab loft though so I a may go there for a bite every now and then.
tits.
Titus does not know squat, not even when he pokes his head directly in the hole for a look see.
Diddly Squat I might concede.
Can you imagine how my parents must have felt?
I'll guarantee they laughed their asses off once you were back in the car.
If Titus would have the kid ricpic is recommending, there'd be stories galore, a whole new batch of Magilla Gorilla moments involving tits and placentas bigger and bloodier than anything his marble-headed dog could dig out of the shifting sands of fab.
"Token Blonde" would be a great name for a band.
Actually, Tokin' Blonde was the name of Courtney Love's band before she started her last band, Hole.
A guy told me.
How does a woman know when the tampon needs to cum out because it is saturated with blood?
Is there like some electric device in the tampon that pushes it out of the twat or perhaps a bell or buzzer that goes off?
I thought the name Hole was the best name for a band ever.
It's the same alert that goes off when an asshole full of fabricated dumbness appears.
Mamam, I thought we were friends.
You are my little catfish.
Maybe your catfish buzzer is busted.
Mamam I sense some anger from you and your inability to find your third eye.
I am here (and queer, get used to it), and ready to help.
May I recommend a deep breath, and pause....and exhale. Now don't you feel better and less bitter?
Also, let God and let go...Namaste.
Perhaps taking off your bra, which is totally constraining, and let the tits loose may be of some help. Now run out of the "small" cottage in "Michigan" and bark at the moon and jump up and down to allow the tits to bounce and experience "freedom"? Video tape it and put those mammary old glands on youtbue may also be beneficial.
Now how does that feel?
Now it is important to relax, count all your Alinksy obsessed chakras, and take a deep relaxing long with a breath of fresh air.
And accept the fact that Obama won in a landslide and gay marriage is invetiable...except in the South.
Now arent you more calm and relaxed and less aggitated?
I hope so...whore.
thanks and tits.
And Mama if you or Papam are collecting any type of social security payments from the federa govnerment you are major takers. You place a huge impediment on us earners.
You better not be collecting any check from any government identity...bitch.
This ↑ from someone who works for a company that lives off gov. contracts.
Beep! Beep! BeeP!
Poke him with a fork, he's done!
Titus, this is one of those times when you appear more unattractive than the gross descriptions and depictions you post about others.
Slather thee rosebuds while thee may,
Thine own to come be not so gay
You can't swing a cat by the tail in this blog anymore without hitting a MamaM insult by Titus.
What's up with that?
tits
Chick, you seriously need a life. You are able to categorize every single Althouse posting from its inception.
This is incredibly unhealthy and you need to stop immediately.
Yes you haet the gay and that is cool. And love Palin, natch.
But please, your encyclopedia knowlege about everything Althouse is disturbing.
Do you like have some fucked up database of everything that ever happened on that site? You need help Chick and should move away from the computer and focus on your family.
It's fucked up bitch.
Step away from the computer...and have a life.
Apparently he wasn't quite done...
There was another drop of Salinsky Venom left in the fang for him to deliver before before the cat was swung.
Swing on this!
CL,
No way did you say "African American" as a child. The nomenclature was different back then.
I remember telling some kids 10 years younger than me that no one ever used the word "bitch" when I was growing up.
One of my buddies is about 7 years older than me, and he's being raked over the coals by a nasty shrew, and he still says "the B word".
No way did you say "African American" as a child. The nomenclature was different back then.
Of course not. By "asking her later" I meant last year. I have no memory of the event, otherwise I wouldn't have asked. And I used "African-American" because TY is a PC place right?
BTW, is anybody as disappointed with the Mad Men season opener as I was? When that show started I thought it was going to explain my childhood. No I think it's just Matt Weiner's personal POV. For example, when Don's wife tells him "you haven't tried making love stoned" in Hawaii, what did that intimate? That she had already? If so, with whom? Or was it two or three years ago back in NYC before they were married?
Does anyone else remember "afro-american"? I used to cringe when my Dad used the word "colored". Poor dad, just an Archie bunker bigot.
Then i looked it up and found that "colored" was the PC term for black people until the 1950s when "negro" replaced it.
So Dad was just trying to use the PC language, and be respectful, he just hadn't gotten the memo.
My father-in-law thought that saying colored was the proper thing to do (um...NAACP uses it, why can't we?). Certainly better than other names people used to refer to blacks. He got transferred from upstate NY to the South back in the early 80s.
One day at work, he was telling someone where his office was and he said something like, "Then you go down that hall, go past the colored secretary, and my office is the third door on the left." He was barely back to his office when his boss called him in to chew his ass off. He was shocked. We all were. It was about that time when the realization struck that we can never be allowed to win the race game. The rules will always change to paint us as the racists.
But, then, there's my own dad. He works in a grocery store. Still does at 80. He got in trouble for telling a customer, "That's mighty white of you."
...aaaaand then, there's my mom, God rest her soul. When my sister got pregnant by her black boyfriend, my mother told me, "We've taken the word nigger out of our vocabulary now."
I wanted to say, "Mighty white of you, Mom," but I didn't.
I tried being honest about the past over on TOP about these things but Trey of all people took me to task: link (read his comment afterwards).
And FWIW, here's a pre-emptive FU fuck to Titus for his "problem" with my historical memory of Althouse.
Titus is presently tyrannizing this blog with his PC bullshit.
In the exact sense, a tyrant is an individual who arrogates to himself the royal authority without having a right to it.
Arrogate? As in, arrogates to himself the authority to appropriate and present distortions and lies as lived truth?
@chickelit...your ability to recall and access historical record is an affront to those who wish to present and propagate a different story.
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