So, January came and we met up for drinks and had Vietnamese...and more drinks.
We needed to skip February due to one of us catching the flu bug so March rolled around and we hooked up a third time. I figured these meetings would at least give me a reason to write in the blog, since we seem to try something new each time. So here, in more detail is...
Dinner with Big Daddy...
Keeping up with the Joneses...
We met up at Uncle's Bar and had a few drinks. After allowing the liquor and/or beer to begin flowing freely through our veins, we decided on Jones for dinner. Stephen Starr's tribute to the 70's, Jones Restaurant has all the ambiance of a rec-room rarely seen outside of an old movie or tv show from the same era that brought us such great things as flaired pant legs and the AMC Pacer.
With stacked flagstone columns and lime green uphostered booths, dark wood and vinyl flooring made to looked like shag carpeting, the air within this corner location gives as much a long forgotten feeling of home as the food itself.Although upscale, it is one of Stephen Starr's lower priced restaurants, offering everything from grilled tuna and breaded talapia to meatloaf and mashed potatoes, fried chicken and waffles right on down to a Duncan Hines triple layer chocolate cake for dessert.
The drink specials were just as funk-a-delic as the atmosphere. I had a S'more martini and Big Daddy ordered this sweet-tasting concoction that came complete with a gummy worm draped over the lip of the glass. When the overzealous waiter came back later in the e
vening and asked if we wanted another drink, Big Daddy simply replied: "I think we'll have something alittle more adult this time around."All in all, dinner was fantastic. The food was good, the drinks were good and the company...well, what can I say....it was Big Daddy!!!!
Sake and Samurais...
After dinner, Big Daddy asked if I ever had Sake. After telling him no, he decided to take me to Raw, an upscale sushi bar and sake lounge in the heart of Center City. Walking into the long narrow room, I immediately felt as if I were standing in some hip and trendy club in Manhattan. A long curving bar, covered in green glass mosaic tiles guided you deeper into the diningroom set further back under the soft yellow glow of oversized Japanese lanterns hanging from the vaulted ceiling. Dark wood furniture, suede seating and a polished hardwood floor all joined forces in giving you the feeling that this was something more than the corner sushi bar.
Big Daddy and I took a seat at the bar and ordered a caraf of sake. All the while, as we sat sipping sake, Big Daddy asked (on more than one occassion) if I had to go to the bathroom. He had mentioned earlier in the evening about the special bathroom this place had designed was really urging me (and my bladder) to make a visit.
I got up from the bar, made my way down to the lower level via a long narrow staircase and emmerged into a large room with a double sink. To the left of the sink was a frosted glass door leading to the ladies' room. To the right stood the men's room. I walked through the door and was standing directly infront of (what can only be described as) a giant stone trough.
When a soft cascade of water started to flow down the side of the wall (I assumed either from a pressurized floor or motion detector) when the door closed behind me, I figured this must've been what Big Daddy was talking about. A raised stone slab was the only barrier between the dark tiled floor of the bathroom and the drain in the trough. I stood on the stone and pulled down my zipper, feeling slightly uneasy since I was standing directly infront of the doorway leading back out into the common area. My mind kept saying that this was not what he was talking about and that I was actually about to pee into a planter or something. But the covered urinal cake near the drain eased my fears (although not completely).
However, my eyes suddenly looked straight ahead at the mural painted on the tiled wall where the water cascaded down into the drain. A giant angry looking Samurai stared back at me. In his hands was gripped a massive sword ready to swing downward. Although I knew it was only a painting, the image before me made my bladder close up completely. My body was already screaming at me to put my johnson back behind the protective barrier of my buttonflies. There was no way I was going to stand in such a vulnerable position, before an angry Samurai and within eyesight of whomever stood on the other side of that frosted glass door.
I decided to wait until our next destination before I went to the bathroom...some place with blank tiles on the walls...
