We started the evening at The Elephant Walk, a French-Cambodian restaurant literally right next door to me. I was under the impression that it was a French-Cambodian fusion; alas, they had two separate menus-Cambodian and French. We shared this interesting appetizer that was like a coconut milk curry soup with ground pork, served with these crunchy sweet rice puff thingamabobs. I then ordered a shrimp with a light Cambodian satay sauce, and Morgan got the braised short ribs with noodles. I forgot to take pictures until after we were half-way done; by that point, our dishes looked a little gross. The food was good--it was a little pricey, I think, for what it was worth, but Morgan thought it was pretty comparable to NY prices. Maybe I've already started to change without realizing.
We stopped off at Audubon Circle for a drink, where we befriended the bartender, who happened to be Korean. I saw him there once before when I was having drinks with my friend Vince (which I blogged about earlier this month).
We told him the bartender were just staying for one drink, as we were heading out to a party thereafter. Anyway, he was really nice--he did a little impromptu wine tasting for Morgan, and then--apropos of nothing--he mixed up some free shots for us. "Thanks--what's in it?" we asked.
"I'm not telling you," he said. "But it's called a bla-ma--'blackout, makeout.' After you drink this, you'll go to the party and make out in the corner...with a guy." (I think he actually meant, "with each other.")
Kind of odd for a bartender to say, but hell--a free drink is a free drink.
Morgan and I downed the proffered shots; it tasted like Robitussin.
We then went to the party of this kid in the English PhD program. He happened to live 3 blocks from our apt, so it was very convenient. "This is just like a New York party," Morgan said, referring to the fact that it was all women and few men. One of the kids who lived there gave us a tour of the 5-bedroom apartment--it looked very pre-war chic. The apt even had a porch, which was actually very spacious. We asked him if they ever BBQ'd, but he said the apt next to them tried to do that over the summer and burned down their whole unit, and one of the tenants died. Needless to say, since then no one's been allowed to BBQ. Apparently the guy's ghost still haunts the next door apt. How tragic!
I swear, this pose seemed like a good idea at the time, once again demonstrating my poor judgment.
Anyway, I took about five billion more photos, and for some reason that eludes me, I decided to stay on until about 4am, where I was one of a handful of people left (WHY do I do this?). Then my friend Iain (who was hosting the party) got a call on his cell--it was Morgan. When he put me on the phone, she said she was worried, and I realized it was time to pack it up, pack it in. Thanks, Mom! No, but for real, I was very touched by the lengths at which Morgan went to track down his number, and to make sure I'd be getting home okay.
Okay, after thinking about it some more, I realized why I stayed till so late. It's because I work my ass off during the week--library, gym, library, home. That's it. So on the (increasingly more prevalent) opportunities to go out, I guess I want to "maximize" my fun-ness, just like I try to maximize my efficiency during the week.
I fell into bed by about a quarter after four, woke up at ten thirty, and then we met Christine and Sydney!!! for brunch. When we told them about Morgan's late night and my even later one, they shook their heads, grinning. "You single girls!" they said.
After a full day of not getting any work done, I now realize I am dead meat for class. So it goes!
3 comments:
Oh, the socially awkward kid who gave us a tour also showed us his room, which was a total disaster--a futon mattress on the floor, musical instruments all which way, and crap littered everywhere. This is really gross, but Morgan said afterwards that she saw a condom on his floor. Not used, though, thankfully. No offense, but he didn't look like the kind of guy who was actively "getting some," so we joked that that was probably his "hope" condom, the one that holds all of his wishes and dreams. "Maybe, just maybe, tonight will be the night!" we pictured him thinking.
I know, I know, we're mean. But is it any meaner than calling French douche bags at a Miami club "douche bags?" I think not =).
Getting out and having life experiences helps with creativity, too. Even "people watching" can provide an idea for a character or a scenario.
great recap Patty! Thanks for being a great Boston tour guide
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