First of all, I have no idea how to refer to the man I’ve been dating. I’m loathe to give him the ubiquitous blogalias. I could refer to him as my boyfriend, but that term is somehow lacking. I dunno. Let’s get back to this later.
Secondly, it was a sort of ‘piratey’ weekend. We kicked it off at The Argonaut over in my nabe with a few cocktails and a decent pub dinner. Wait – lemme back it up a bit – we actually kicked things off with one of those bison-grass vodka apple juice cocktails at my place and then hit The Argh for some dark rum and ginger beer cocktails called Dark and Stormy’s. I had a bacon, lettuce and fried green tomato sammich with a side of mac n cheese, and he had the jerk chicken sammich with rice and beans. The dark and stormy’s were excellent but not so much to render my feet numb enough to endure the walk home in the supremely stupid pair of sandals I vainly thought to wear. Our tentative plans to hit the Rock and Roll Hotel after dinner to hear a DJ spin Bauhaus/Love and Rockets fell apart due to those damned shoes. Fortunately, he seemed content with tipsy cuddling.