Pete Is A Cheap Date

Monday, September 11, 2006

As I sat to write I felt compelled, even obligated, to write about the events in New York City five years ago.

I can't. As soon as I convince myself I am not affected emotionaly by the events of 9/11 I find myself sad even thinking about it. I have much to say, but the wounds are surprisingly sensitive considering the complete distance I should have from the events.

Instead, you get this...

I met my friend Rich for lunch today at our usual spot, Chili's. I'm not sure why Rich and I always end up there, but for some strange reason we do. The food is not really great there. Mediocre is more the word I would use. The atmosphere is canned and shallow. Rich, however is a cool guy so that always makes for a good time.

I got to the restaurant at the appointed hour and headed inside. No sign of Rich. I waited for a few minutes before I sent him the text message "Where the hell are you?"

Thirty seconds later my phone chirped that he had replied. "Running 10 minutes late. Order for me. Steak sandwich, veggies instead of fries." The service is often slow anyway, so it was good that I at least had his order.

I went inside and requested a table for two. Moments later the waiter arrived.

"Are you still waiting for someone else before you order?"

"No, I'm ready to order for both of us now. He'll be here shortly."

"Ok, go ahead."

"To start a Corona (Rich's brew of choice) and a Sam Adams. (A merely satisfactory beer but the best they had on the menu as far as my tastes go) Then we'll each have the steak sandwich, substitute veggies instead of fries on one."

The waiter paused and looked as if he I were selling him Amway for a moment. "When your friend gets here he's going to be 21 and everything, right?"

"Yes, 21... and everything"

The food and beer arrived just before Rich did and I started drinking. By the time he got there I was halfway through both the beer and the complimentary bowl of chips.

At this point I should mention that in the 4 years or so since I stopped drinking regularly, I have had maybe 4 drinks if you don't count the business trip to San Francisco where I (foolishly) binged. What this means is that my tolerance is a little low. By a little low I mean... I was fairly well buzzed halfway into this one solitary beer.

It is the first thing Rich noticed.

"Is that your first?" he asked as soon as he sat down.

"Yes, why?"

"Because you are buzzed. Aren't you?"

"Maybe a little."

"Well, at least you're a cheap date... Mormon."

We both laughed about that and had another. Now, if you don't mind, I need to go have a nap.

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Filed under: Beer

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