the salad accident

Last week I went out to dinner — a rather nice spot called Crush Wine Bar — with a group of my delightful friends. Said friends wondered if our festive dinner out would merit an entry in my blog. (I evaded the question as long as I could.)

Now, ordinarily my blog is observational and tends to focus on things that bug me or confuse me. Occasionally, I mention my shopping exploits. But I don’t really write about the times I go out for nice dinners with wonderful friends and enjoy myself … because, well frankly, where’s the tension or conflict?

But yeah, I went out last week with A. J. E. and K.

The evening started out fine but went downhill after about 4 bottles of wine and a few vodka martinis. E and K got into a fight (something about a ruined Prada bag) and that resulted in what is now referred to as the tragic Belgian Endive & Watercress Salad Accident. Not pretty.

See, the last part is not true but it did make the post more interesting, no?


  1. Indeed, Judy (aka J.) was kind enough to drive me home. (Thanks again!) I sat in the backseat atop one of the kids’ car cushions — it raised me up about 4 inches — but since I’m short it was not a hardship in the least. Indeed, I was delighted to get a drive back to my place. The conversation in the car on the way was interesting too.

    More on that in my next post perhaps.

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