Jan. 4th, 2009 05:05 pm
Return to Bad Meinl
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muckefuckHow ironic it was to return Saturday afternoon and see a invitation from a good friend to brunch at the Meinl on Lincoln Sunday morning. I would've said "No", except it was for a dear friend's birthday, and since I'm so consistently terrible at remembering to do anything thoughtful that requires the least amount of planning (you know, like buying a gift or even so much as sending a frickin' card), I figure that attending someone's party is literally the very least I can do.
Of course, due to the previous night's (mild!) debauchery, I didn't rise until just about when the brunch was scheduled to begin. I waltzed in an hour late, right about the time when everyone else had had coffee and eaten and had another coffee; the host told me frankly that--even taking into account that it would take "a minor miracle" for me to be there before 11 a.m.--he'd given up on me. But it's a measure of his class that he did this only after surrendering his chair for me (a gesture that soon proved superfluous as a number of satisfied diners chose that moment to head out).
Fortunately for all, the staff brought their A game. The day before, we'd lamented getting Ditzy Asian Dude and expressed our undying affection for Hypercompetent Redhead. One guess who our waitron was this morning! The only bump in the road was some undercooked eggs that were rectified with courteous dispatch. I ended up talking to the host more than the honorée, but that may have helped enjoy her other guests without fretting about his getting bored, so I consider it effort well directed. Afterwards, he took me to the local Border's to drop $40 on bargain books in order to rectify the critical shortage of titles in my collection.
I came home to find![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu curled up on the sofa watching Life. It's a decent series, although the two episodes we ended up watching together felt like the worst and most manipulative, respectively, of the first season. On the other hand, there was loads of gratuitous Persian dialogue, which is never bad. Now the pork is in the oven and I think I'll slip back down to browse our new cocktail compendium while he catches up on the tedious horrorshow that passes for news of the world these days.
Of course, due to the previous night's (mild!) debauchery, I didn't rise until just about when the brunch was scheduled to begin. I waltzed in an hour late, right about the time when everyone else had had coffee and eaten and had another coffee; the host told me frankly that--even taking into account that it would take "a minor miracle" for me to be there before 11 a.m.--he'd given up on me. But it's a measure of his class that he did this only after surrendering his chair for me (a gesture that soon proved superfluous as a number of satisfied diners chose that moment to head out).
Fortunately for all, the staff brought their A game. The day before, we'd lamented getting Ditzy Asian Dude and expressed our undying affection for Hypercompetent Redhead. One guess who our waitron was this morning! The only bump in the road was some undercooked eggs that were rectified with courteous dispatch. I ended up talking to the host more than the honorée, but that may have helped enjoy her other guests without fretting about his getting bored, so I consider it effort well directed. Afterwards, he took me to the local Border's to drop $40 on bargain books in order to rectify the critical shortage of titles in my collection.
I came home to find
monshu curled up on the sofa watching Life. It's a decent series, although the two episodes we ended up watching together felt like the worst and most manipulative, respectively, of the first season. On the other hand, there was loads of gratuitous Persian dialogue, which is never bad. Now the pork is in the oven and I think I'll slip back down to browse our new cocktail compendium while he catches up on the tedious horrorshow that passes for news of the world these days.