We had a great time last nite, but nobody was real inclined to take notes, so here’s all we got:
Green Bean and Billdo arrived to find the following in attendance:
**Biggirl
Beerchick
Rachel **{friend of Biggirl and Beerchick) Houseman
Cajun Man
DrMatrix
Soulsling
SuaSponte arrived shortly thereafter, and immediately started talking about law firms with Billdo. Green Bean turned to the other side, hoping to find a more interesting conversation. To her dismay, Soulsling and Houseman were discussing subway schedules.
–Biggirl has requested an official note–The service was awful.
–(Stuyguy arrived around this time)
–Biggirl was told halfway through her meal that there was no food for her. Greenie and Beerchick feed Biggirl. A few more dinners like this and I’ll be a little girl.
–10:07 Wonko the Sane and Kris arrive. 29.70" of mercury and falling the journey here was silly and ridiculous after we lost the directions. Ugh.
–Art Criticism 101: The Mural is, shall we say, quaint.
Okay, so the notes were sketchy. But if memory serves me (and I only had 2 El Presidentes) here is some more of what happened.
Much to everyone’s shock, SuaSponte is male. We all thought he was female. Of course most of us were much too polite to say this to his face. We whispered it behind his back instead. But Wonko didn’t dissemble. No, the look on his face when he met Sua was positively priceless. I wished at that moment that someone had brought a camera.
The food at El Viejo Yayo was good. The service left a bit to be desired. The most egregious example: After an interminable wait, the waitress brought everybody’s food but Biggirl’s. After a little while, we all forgot our manners and tucked in, while she nibbled on Beerchick’s plantains. We all were about halfway through our food when the watiress appeared and informed Biggirl that the meal that she ordered was unavailable. So Biggirl was left meal-less. We all tried to feed her, but I guess it just wasn’t the same. In the end, we all studiously avoided discussing how much tip to leave so that we would not get drawn into yet another discussion about tipping…
I think I’ll stop here and leave room for reports from the others.
I think it ought to be noted that the mural was of a scene of a stagecoach with two men on the bench at the reins, that appeared to have shotguns at their ready, while following two “Injuns”. Meanwhile, in the background, is what appeared to be two columns of Union Troops approaching with dust trailing them.
Very curious.
A new clique is forming: The Never Suggest Restaurants for Dopefest Clique. Members so far, Soulsling and Biggirl.
Not tip the waitress? I wanted to beat the waitress about the neck and face!
A few topics of conversation at my end of the table. >Herniated discs and the many drugs you can get if you have one.
>The good and bad points of Louisiana. Good-- Spanish moss, the food, the 24 hour bars and drinking in the street.
Bad-- the heat, the poverty and that southern conservative attitude.
>Why did Uke Ike try to get Wonko lost with the worst directions ever written on a message board?
>The soap opera that is the SDMB. Beerchic and Rachel sat gape-jawed at the shenanigans.
>Why and how legalizing drugs could help the country.
After the restaurant, **CajunMan, Soulsling, Dr. Matrix, Wonko, Kris, Houseman and I ** walked a mere 15 blocks to Harry Bolen’s where the discussion turned to computers, marriage, sucky domestic beer and other things I would remember now if I hadn’t drank so much.
I lost the directions good ones and bad ones, while still in Jersey. I got really awful directions from random people while on the way, and walked right past the restaurant on Kris and my jouney of the millenium.
That weird mural had one guy riding just a horse’s head- it had no body.
It was delightful meeting all you guys/gals last night. I look forward to future fests.
Note to Soulsling, Beerchick and Dr. Matrix: please accept my apologies for not chit-chatting with you guys much. My late arrival and end-of-the-table seat (…not to mention the riveting chatter of Cajun Man…) put a damper on my circulation.
(And just for the record, I knew Sua Sponte was a man. I remember reading his post about how he chose his name, and once you hear that story, believe me, you never forget he’s a guy.)
Again, thanks for a fun get-together. And an especially hearty thanks to the organizer, Biggirl.
Cajun Man and I arrived and told the host/waiter/employee we were with the Cecil Adams party. He looked puzzled and asked us how many were in the party. I said “Gee, I dunno…”. He asked “About twenty?” Me: “Ummm… OK?” We were shown to the table. Biggirl, Beer Chick, and Rachel had already arrived.
The mural was pretty bad. When I commented on the horse that had a head, but no rear, some wag said that it was a quarter horse.
I enjoyed my food, but I got food. It was bad enough that they didn’t have what Biggirl ordered; they waited until well after everyone else was served before telling her. Cajun Man had to go find the host/waiter/employee to get the waitress for our table about three times.
I thought SuaSponte was a woman. I tried to hide my surprise when I met him. Wonko the Sane fell out of his chair.
Cajun Man and I arrived and told the host/waiter/employee we were with the Cecil Adams party. He looked puzzled and asked us how many were in the party. I said “Gee, I dunno…”. He asked “About twenty?” Me: “Ummm… OK?” We were shown to the table. Biggirl, Beer Chick, and Rachel had already arrived.
The mural was pretty bad. When I commented on the horse that had a head, but no rear, some wag said that it was a quarter horse.
I enjoyed my food, but I got food. It was bad enough that they didn’t have what Biggirl ordered; they waited until well after everyone else was served before telling her. Cajun Man had to go find the host/waiter/employee to get the waitress for our table about three times.
I thought SuaSponte was a woman. I tried to hide my surprise when I met him. Wonko the Sane fell out of his chair.
Those were excellent directions. I have received blue ribbons for my directions. President Coolidge once awarded me a personal commendation for my directions.
I’m not sure what tipped the Dopers off that I was male – perhaps it was the facial hair.
As for myself, once the conversation finally stopped being about politics, I had a great time. I was especially pleased to learn, from this random sampling, that the majority of Dopers are smokers.
The only scary part of the night was meeting Rachel, who looks distressingly like my ex-fiance. Despite that, she seemed like a very nice woman.
Cajun Man had a great suggestion that I hope to follow up on. A la Satan’s quit smoking counter, I’ll try to set up my very own stop dropping acid counter. We’ll see how it goes.
