Saturday, January 30, 2010
Full metal douchebag
I got the usual antipasti platter, which comes with 2 kinds of cheeses, a hard one and a spreadable goat cheese with fennel fronds. Roasted garlic, gaeta olives, caponata, sweet balsamic onions, 2 kinds of salami, roasted red peppers, pate... It's been this way, with maybe a few seasonal variations, since my first visit there.
So I was sitting there enjoying the atmosphere, company, food. I glance over at the bar and notice an overweight, balding man with glasses staring in our direction and I nearly spit my wine out.
Five years ago, I was sitting at the same bar by myself eating some bruschetta and enjoying some wine. I was by myself so I had a magazine. Open. In front of me. This same man was a couple seats down. He decided to strike up a conversation and after a few short answers (which I thought would hopefully end the conversation) he decides to open up a full on barrage. He's been to Japan. Korea. They LOVED him there. Uh huh. He's an editor at Newsweek. Science section. Okay. Then comes the bombshell. "Do you like to kiss?" What? He repeats the question. I try to think fast. "Yes, it's one of my favorite bands. Can I have the check please?" I pay as fast as I can and leave so fast I nearly fall off the stool. I accidentally on purpose drop the business card he gives me on the ground outside. I get on the train home feeling nauseous, dirty, slimy, semi-violated.
I pretended not to see him or recognize him last night.