Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Beauty Is In the Eye of the Beholder, And More Rather Obvious Realizations

This is the trendy new restaurant that opened up in my neighborhood not too long ago. Adam and I dined there for his birthday this year. We were surrounded by the beautiful people. Adam had roast duck for the first time. 

It was fatty.
When we needed to get out of the house the other night, instead of heading to the overpriced trendy spot we mosied on over to a different joint one block down. 
To the naked eye, it’s a dive. A corner bar I wouldn’t dare be seen in (which actually wouldn't be  possible because there aren't any windows).
But beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
On the inside it’s one of those dark, old-school bars with round, high-backed booths that make me feel like Sinatra and Deano might saunter in. The air always looks smokey to me, even though there is no smoke. 

The clientele are a motley crew:  boys with ponytails and long beards; girls with thick black eyeglasses and bright orange hair;  a sprinkling of high-powered business men. 
Depending on the day, there’s either Johnny Cash or Coltrane on the jukebox. Add to that the fact that they serve the best bar food in the entire world (including homemade tater tots and the freshest salads), and it’s no wonder this dark little cave has become our favorite haunt.  
The ambience provides little moments. While I enjoy a cosmo (or two), Adam leans over and touches my arm. 
“You have the softest elbows,” he informs me. “You really do.” 
On the way home, Adam spots one of those mini murals of our delightful former governor that have been popping up all over the city. He gets such a kick out of it he simply must snap a picture.

So I ham it up like I usually do. He shows me the picture on the walk home and all I can think as I look at my ridiculous self is that in less than a month I will be given the title of “Professor.”
Adam is holding my hand as we pass by the trendy place--where the giant windows allow its trendy patrons to be seen in all their trendiness. We keep walking and laughing and being our silly selves and I say to myself, “Yep." 

Eye of the beholder.