after much discussion about cookie cakes, R and i decided the next things on our agenda were (a) a chocolate chip cookie and (b) a glass of red wine. we stopped by two places whose dark windows reflected our rather large pouts.
point A might have been off the menu, but we could still conquer point B. we ended up at our favorite bar where two seats were waiting patiently. obviously, we were meant to be there.
R to bartender: i’d like a glass of this red wine *points to menu* and a dessert menu.
me to bartender: i’d like a glass of this red wine *points to menu*
i may not be the bravest when it comes to trying new food, but when compared to dear R, i’m basically lewis and clark. i’ve conquered the food frontier. all this is to say, the desserts listed had rather fancy descriptions that slightly terrified us. we settled on the one with “chocolate” in the name. it was no chocolate chip cookie, but we made the right decision.
we dined in style, chatted merrily, watched the crowds, sipped our nightcaps and patted ourselves on the back for a successful wednesday evening.
R to bartender: i think we’ll close out now.
bartender: *punches buttons* okay, you’re all set.
we stared at the bartender who crumpled up the receipt and tossed it in the trash. we looked at each other. we eyed the bartender who smiled and nodded. our eyes grew wide. our smiles grew wider. with those four little words, our status as regulars were cemented.
yes, we left a large tip.
yes, we high fived once we were out of eye sight of the bartender.