May. 30th, 2023 11:18 am
Memming the Day
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muckefuckToday I'm dealing with the usual event drop after an above-average Mem Day weekend. I'm not exactly sure where to lay the credit for the latter; I guess just the cumulative effect of trying to make better decisions about what is going to give me happiness and satisfaction rather than leading me into anxiety and brooding.
We kicked things off Thursday with the welcome party at Jackhammer. Clint wasn't feeling up to going out so I donned some leather and went over to Randall's alone to pre-game. There I ended up meeting yet another bartender, a charming Lithuanian named Arina, and striking up a conversation with yet another nice straight guy, who introduced me to a peppermint schnapps I actually like. At Jax I immediately ran into a circle of pals from the old Bear Pride days and mostly chatted with them, though I did meet some new folks. It was busy but not too crowded and I found someone fun in the Pit to take home for some good times.
It ended up being a late night so Friday I wasn't up to much. We've still got the issue of demo work being done across the street starting every day but Sunday at 8 a.m. or close to it, so sleeping in is a dodgy proposition. I was a bit at loose ends for what to do in the evening since the weed event at SoFo held little appeal for me. Fortunately a couple of our friends suggested a backyard hang at their new house which I hadn't seen and was eager to visit. It was more beautiful than I'd imagined--and a mere four blocks away!
Around 9 pm I realised I needed food and stumbled over to the chicken fingers place on Sheridan. I was drunk enough that a nightcap at Anvil seemed like a good plan. I didn't really see anyone I knew but I did end up chatting with a lovely Belizean man and getting so distracted that I left my bag behind. Luckily I only noticed this around 11 am, which was right about when the bar reopened, so it didn't ruin my sleep. Clint heard me tearing around the apartment and volunteered to drive me over to look for it. It was, of course, exactly where I'd left it, pressed up against the foot of the bar where the bartenders never spotted it.
To celebrate, he took us to Tweet for brunch and we almost immediately schnagged a deuce on the front patio. Clint was in a rare mood, constantly laughing and singing and generally being a beacon of brightness. He didn't want to drive to the IML vendor mart afterwards so we went back home and switched to CTA. The hotel was chaotic and crowded, but upon arriving at the mart we immediately met a dozen people we knew. One of them, an aggressive Italian, kept demanding ussies and we were happy to slip away to another room for browsing and voyeurism.
Eventually we washed up in the barroom at the north end of the hotel and found a generous bartender who was essentially pouring doubles and charging for singles. At that point, it became pretty clear we weren't going anywhere for a while, but we were both enjoying the atmosphere immensely. Finally as it got late I suggested we head north for some food before going out, which brought us to South of the Border on Morse since the other mooted possibilities were already closed or closing.
Again, we pregamed at Randall's. Again I chatted up an amusing straight boy, this one a graduate of SLU law school. Then we crossed the intersection to Jackie's and saw a line the likes of brought me back to the Bear Pride days. Clint went up front to check whether his pass gave him priority access and it did so he abandoned me tout-de-suite. But the line was very social and I made new friends on all sides during the 45 minutes it took us to crawl to the door. There was a similarly long line for the downstairs so I decided again just to hang in the front bar with pals again. There was a gorgeous Asian bear from Twin Peaks in SF who I tried to bag but though he was very kind I saw his eyes darting all around and decided to make it an early night.
Sunday morning was a little stressed. RJ had planned a brunch in Evanston at 1:30 and seeing that it was after noon and Clint wasn't stirring, I intuited that he was bailing. Fortunately he was still able to give me a ride so I was able to arrive ontime. LeTour is a cute place and we loved the staff. The young bartender was a little flirty and very solicitous and our server was *very* California and made us all fall in love with her a little bit. She also tipped us to an afternoon happy hour with raclette so we'll have to find a time to do that soon.
After dessert at Café Coralie, I got dropped at home to find a mess on the porch with our neighbours fit to be tied from the noisy power washing next door. It made me happier than ever to peace out and head to my powerlifter friends' barbecue steps from the Howard Street Station. As evening drew on, various folks peeled off to head to other locations, mainly SoFo, but I wasn't eager for another late night (which I knew that would probably turn into) and I was enjoying the quiet company so I lingered and lingered.
The next morning, I awoke with a bit of anxiety about having lingered too long. It took me a bit of time to push through that and get myself on the road to Sidetrack, but I eventually managed and found the boys in the atrium. We headed up to the roofdeck just as it started to fill up and shnagged a good table just opposite the bar. It made a good seat of operations from which to run around the bar and I ended up with a lot of new names for my "New People" file, some of whom are local and I'll probably see again. RJ made plans to hook up with an out-of-towner I introduced him to and I'm having my usual mixed feelings about that but I drowned them in a negroni at SoFo after another unsuccessful attempt to dine at Middle Eastern Grill turned into a quick run to Jet's.
I ended off the weekend as it began: With a shot of Ullr at Randall's. I still have some emotions to sort through (probably with the help of Clint's overtaxed ears), but overall a successful time with only a few stressful patches. Could it be I'm finally getting the hang of this?
We kicked things off Thursday with the welcome party at Jackhammer. Clint wasn't feeling up to going out so I donned some leather and went over to Randall's alone to pre-game. There I ended up meeting yet another bartender, a charming Lithuanian named Arina, and striking up a conversation with yet another nice straight guy, who introduced me to a peppermint schnapps I actually like. At Jax I immediately ran into a circle of pals from the old Bear Pride days and mostly chatted with them, though I did meet some new folks. It was busy but not too crowded and I found someone fun in the Pit to take home for some good times.
It ended up being a late night so Friday I wasn't up to much. We've still got the issue of demo work being done across the street starting every day but Sunday at 8 a.m. or close to it, so sleeping in is a dodgy proposition. I was a bit at loose ends for what to do in the evening since the weed event at SoFo held little appeal for me. Fortunately a couple of our friends suggested a backyard hang at their new house which I hadn't seen and was eager to visit. It was more beautiful than I'd imagined--and a mere four blocks away!
Around 9 pm I realised I needed food and stumbled over to the chicken fingers place on Sheridan. I was drunk enough that a nightcap at Anvil seemed like a good plan. I didn't really see anyone I knew but I did end up chatting with a lovely Belizean man and getting so distracted that I left my bag behind. Luckily I only noticed this around 11 am, which was right about when the bar reopened, so it didn't ruin my sleep. Clint heard me tearing around the apartment and volunteered to drive me over to look for it. It was, of course, exactly where I'd left it, pressed up against the foot of the bar where the bartenders never spotted it.
To celebrate, he took us to Tweet for brunch and we almost immediately schnagged a deuce on the front patio. Clint was in a rare mood, constantly laughing and singing and generally being a beacon of brightness. He didn't want to drive to the IML vendor mart afterwards so we went back home and switched to CTA. The hotel was chaotic and crowded, but upon arriving at the mart we immediately met a dozen people we knew. One of them, an aggressive Italian, kept demanding ussies and we were happy to slip away to another room for browsing and voyeurism.
Eventually we washed up in the barroom at the north end of the hotel and found a generous bartender who was essentially pouring doubles and charging for singles. At that point, it became pretty clear we weren't going anywhere for a while, but we were both enjoying the atmosphere immensely. Finally as it got late I suggested we head north for some food before going out, which brought us to South of the Border on Morse since the other mooted possibilities were already closed or closing.
Again, we pregamed at Randall's. Again I chatted up an amusing straight boy, this one a graduate of SLU law school. Then we crossed the intersection to Jackie's and saw a line the likes of brought me back to the Bear Pride days. Clint went up front to check whether his pass gave him priority access and it did so he abandoned me tout-de-suite. But the line was very social and I made new friends on all sides during the 45 minutes it took us to crawl to the door. There was a similarly long line for the downstairs so I decided again just to hang in the front bar with pals again. There was a gorgeous Asian bear from Twin Peaks in SF who I tried to bag but though he was very kind I saw his eyes darting all around and decided to make it an early night.
Sunday morning was a little stressed. RJ had planned a brunch in Evanston at 1:30 and seeing that it was after noon and Clint wasn't stirring, I intuited that he was bailing. Fortunately he was still able to give me a ride so I was able to arrive ontime. LeTour is a cute place and we loved the staff. The young bartender was a little flirty and very solicitous and our server was *very* California and made us all fall in love with her a little bit. She also tipped us to an afternoon happy hour with raclette so we'll have to find a time to do that soon.
After dessert at Café Coralie, I got dropped at home to find a mess on the porch with our neighbours fit to be tied from the noisy power washing next door. It made me happier than ever to peace out and head to my powerlifter friends' barbecue steps from the Howard Street Station. As evening drew on, various folks peeled off to head to other locations, mainly SoFo, but I wasn't eager for another late night (which I knew that would probably turn into) and I was enjoying the quiet company so I lingered and lingered.
The next morning, I awoke with a bit of anxiety about having lingered too long. It took me a bit of time to push through that and get myself on the road to Sidetrack, but I eventually managed and found the boys in the atrium. We headed up to the roofdeck just as it started to fill up and shnagged a good table just opposite the bar. It made a good seat of operations from which to run around the bar and I ended up with a lot of new names for my "New People" file, some of whom are local and I'll probably see again. RJ made plans to hook up with an out-of-towner I introduced him to and I'm having my usual mixed feelings about that but I drowned them in a negroni at SoFo after another unsuccessful attempt to dine at Middle Eastern Grill turned into a quick run to Jet's.
I ended off the weekend as it began: With a shot of Ullr at Randall's. I still have some emotions to sort through (probably with the help of Clint's overtaxed ears), but overall a successful time with only a few stressful patches. Could it be I'm finally getting the hang of this?