On Thursday night, I got together with three good friends for dinner at Cafe Loup, an adorable restaurant on 13th Street, and talked our heads off for almost three hours.<\/p>\n
Topics covered:<\/p>\n
— Apple products (and how Mobile Me in its web application continues to effing SUCK)
\n— parent-teacher conferences
\n— the people who emerge from your past via Facebook and how this can be awesome or horrifying (Like: “I didn’t like that douchebag in high school. Why should I like him now?”)
\n— ex-boyfriends\/ex-husbands\/current boyfriends\/current husbands
\n— night sweats
\n— Natasha Richardson
\n— grief
\n— returning food at a restaurant and the best way to go about it
\n— online dating
\n— Little House on the Prairie
\n— our food (yummy)<\/p>\n
We were ENGROSSED in each other. Completely unselfconscious in the hours-long round-table we were in.<\/p>\n
Near the end of the night, a man approached our table. He was blurpy, black hair, pale skin, with a little backwards cap on his head. You know. Your basic nightmare. He came right up to our table, and I had a moment of thinking he was one of those people who somehow manage to infiltrate a restaurant and try to sell you used DVDs as you’re having a nice meal. He was so purposeful, that we all stopped talking and looked up at him.<\/p>\n
He said, in a Scottish accent, “Excuse me, ladies, sorry for intruding, but I just wanted to let you all know that you all are absolutely beautiful.”<\/p>\n
I can’t explain the WAY he said it – just a straight-up compliment – that seriously disarmed us all. We were talking about night-sweats or something ridiculous like that, and suddenly, there he was. It could have been seriously cheesy, and I suppose it was – but there’s a charm in cheesy moments as well. It’s brave. Flirting requires a little bit of that energy. Nothing worse than someone flirting and ALSO trying to impress you with how cool he is. Please stop. Just admit that flirting is always a little bit goofy. He was goofy. We all just started laughing, and saying, “God! Thank you!”<\/p>\n
He said, (and he was devastatingly charming in the way that only a blurpy Scot can be), “And now I have to go join my friends – all pudgy and drunk men – ” with a tone of loss and disappointment. Who wants to hang out with a group of drunk men, even if they are your friends, when you could be sitting with a group of 4 women who are vigorously discussing ABC Afterschool Specials and Danny Bonaduce?<\/p>\n
Man has his priorities straight.<\/p>\n
His energy reminded me of what it’s like to be in Ireland, where you can’t sit at a table in a public place, as a woman, without some blurpy man strolling over and striking up a conversation. Sometimes it’s annoying, but I always feel grateful that the man gave it a shot. Go you.<\/p>\n
It made our night. He went off to join his friends, and we all toasted him as he left.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
On Thursday night, I got together with three good friends for dinner at Cafe Loup, an adorable restaurant on 13th Street, and talked our heads off for almost three hours. Topics covered: — Apple products (and how Mobile Me in … Continue reading