What Begins with Wings

Some nights are more productive than others. Sometimes you come away with lessons to be valued and cherished while other times all you get is a hangover and Diet Coke stains on your t-shirt. Last night, I learned much.
Lesson #1 I am not the target audience for Trocadaros. I was meeting my friend Candace there because it's near where she works and even nearer to Monte Carlo, where we would end up. We were on a mission for wings, but first we wanted cheap drinks. We knew that there were no specials at the Monte. Trocaderos had 2 for 1's! First, I was irritated trying to park because although the building is surrounded by parking lots, none of them are to be used by the citizenry. I found a meter outside of Ribnick furs - have you ever seen that place up close? The pictures of men in women swathed in fur are hilarious. I apologize if you're sensitive to the whole killing of rodents to wear them thing. It is perverse, but even more, these people looked RIDICULOUS!
I giggled as I darted across a rather busy intersection. Round and round I went, where the hell the main entrance was is anybody's guess! Finally, I was in. I was in, and there was Candy with a couple of her new coworkers. They were really nice guys, who got a pizza that they shared with us. Love people who share free food with me!!!
I tried to get the bartender's attention. I could see she was totally swamped by the two other people in there. There was a lot of bustling around. I tried to make out the wine bottles behind the bar. Kenfold's Kanuga Hill something... I tried to flag her down again. Busy, busy, very busy. There was some kind of an event upstairs where everyone was forced to wear these identical maroon golf shirts. I was chatting with Candy and her guys and fighting the irritation that was building up inside me. It finally got so I couldn't hold a conversation, because I was so busy staring at the bartender attempting to get served. Finally! She asked me what I wanted AFTER she offered to refill the guys drinks.
Then I did the dumbest thing possible. I asked for a wine list. I didn't see her again for what seemed like an eternity. (Because, why would you keep the wine list behind the bar?) I'm sure you think I'm exaggerating, but when I arrived, these people all had full drinks. By the time she finally TOOK my order two of the three had finished their drinks, and none of these people were guzzling. I watched the bartender fill my glass with the end of not one, not two, but three end of the bottles bottles of wine. What the heck are they even doing with that many open? You can imagine how it tasted. Like white hot shame. Why did I even try?
We decided one round was plenty and headed off to the Monte Carlo. And there was the seething. I was kind of seething and that's just not... good. But then the sweet coworker guys bought our drinks! It was so lovely of them! Did I mention the love? So, between the seething and the loving I was returned to my usual equilibrium.
The Monte offers free valet services, so I zipped back across the street and drove my car the block and a half over there. I don't ever, ever want to hear a word about Trocaderos again, let alone go past it.
Which brings me to lesson #2 - Free Valet is GOOD. The parking lot guy was so nice! I love parking lot guy. So, free valet rules, take advantage and tip well.
We sat outside and I immediately ordered a dirty martini (sadly they didn't have Hendricks! So, I had to make due with Grey Goose. Wha whaa whaaaaaa) We were planning on meeting up with Andy & Eric, but they weren't there yet. When our gracious waiter Serge returned, I ordered my wings.
It's been eons since I'd been to the Monte Carlo and couldn't precisely remember why I loved these wings so much, only that I did and they were wonderful. I also remembered that the rest of their food, pretty much sucks. And it's expensive. But there were these mythical wings! I couldn't wait. Andy and Eric could get their own. (And they did.)
And then... there they were. My heaping mound of gorgeous, fried yumminess! They come out this golden brown, super crispy and dusted with a mysterious seasoning. We all tried and tried to figure out what all was on there. There is brown sugar, seasoning salt, Cinnamon and cayenne pepper, but there seems to be more... They are these perfect, juicy examples of what all fried chicken should always be. And I love the sweet/savory flavor combination. I tried so very, very, VERY hard to control myself, but probably could have eaten the entire order myself.
We stayed for a few more rounds of drinks and some fun conversation, but I was getting worried about my limited fundage for the night. I knew I was getting low. Candy & I decided to take off for the Saintly city and Andy & Eric had a show to go to at the Fine Line.
We headed to my local pub Skinner's, where Matt was tending bar. I swear, he's been working so much this week, I don't think I'd recognize him if I ever saw his legs. Drinks are so cheap there, that we were able to keep the party rolling. My friend Jeremy hooked up with us at this point - he'd just gotten off work. Responsible. Some of us... were not so much. More drinks always seems like a good idea when you've started at exactly 5 p.m., were originally pissed off and gulped a martini before salty foods. Yeah. Great idea - drinking until you're thirsty again.
My third and final lesson for this happy Slursday was #3 - Know when it's time to take yourself out of the public eye.
Here's a good way to know that you've reached that time:
I walked into the ladies room and there was some girl in there claiming that whatever was wrong with the toilet was NOT her fault. I was drunk enough to completely take her at her word. Of COURSE not. You nicey girl. So, I go in and the seat is a little wet. I gingerly laid down t.p. and sat down. I had to go SO BAD. Then I hear my song come on the jukebox. Jackson! It's Jackson! Jeremy and I have to SING!!!! So I pee as fast as I can, hitch up my britches and dash out there. While shaking my tush to the end of the song, another patron(a regular), runs up to me and discreetly removes the toilet paper that I had hanging off of my twitching fanny.