Because I'm Worth It

I hate surprises, but for some unfathomable reason, the men in my life seem to delight in throwing the unexpected my way; while they may think this makes them appear spontaneous and exciting, it does not -- it tends to irritate and disappoint. I am always impressed by actions that reflect knowledge and appreciation of a person; like when my husband has my bar none favourite chocolate confection shipped over from Vancouver -- A+; when he takes me to Thailand to stay in rat-infested hotels and have the overt sex trade thrust in my face at every turn for our honeymoon -- big, fat failure. It's like having your best friend, who knows you hate beer, serve you Corona at a party. Maybe he does it because he doesn't actually listen when you speak or really know the intricacies of you at all -- or maybe he just doesn't care, and if that's they case, you probably shouldn't waste any of your spectacular self on his complete lack of effort or interest.

Fortunately, there is such a spectrum of people with whom to associate, if one gravely disappoints, there'll be at least a few who are more than willing to satisfy. Like the lovely, inclusive friend of a friend, who welcomed me into his home Saturday night and proceeded to treat me like a VIP, even though I unintentionally crashed his intimate bbq. Shortly before I intruded, I had been left hanging by an inconsiderate narcissist that (while devastatingly charming) must have thought I didn't mind waiting by the phone with bated breath for him to tell me when to jump and how high. Not one to put up with such insolence, I sent the word out to a few near and dear that I was downtown in need of quality company with which to imbibe. Having Maya as my regular date, it is so infrequent that the opportunity to let loose presents itself, I like to make the most of such precious evenings.

The bbq was charmingly intimate and hosted by a smooth and hot like butter host with the most. As opposed to the standard grill fare, he was smoking butter chicken -- that's right, one of my favourite dishes made from scratch -- and it filled his apartment with the most enticing, heady aroma. The crowd was thin, just the host, his cousin, his roommate and date, with my friend Blair rounding out the group and doing a delightfully considerate liquor run to make sure all were provided for and content. Unfortunately, my evening suffered from being overly well-planned, so I couldn't even stay for a bite of dinner and had to politely sneak away to meet my girlfriend and her new main man.

At around 9:30, I waltzed into The Treasury, because of course, at that early hour of the night, there was no lineup and only a handful of quiet souls sipping cocktails; two of these belonging to the mellow set were Sharon and Kristof, with whom I sipped, swigged and bantered until it tolled 11, my stomach growled and the little alcohol I had consumed was keeping me buzzed as it dawned on me I had yet to have dinner. The bar's kitchen had already closed, so we strolled down the street to 100 -- this is a restaurant unworthy of its pretentiousness. For $30, I had one glass of wine and an appetizer so small, it left me wanting. I adore Sharon and am ecstatic to report the object of her affection is everything she described so my time in their company was well spent, despite having to give up butter chicken to eat lame lobster tacos at midnight.

Overall, my night on the town had been adequately salvaged, but not one to hold a grudge, I felt the need to smooth things over with the one who had left me in the lurch early on -- so, in response to an inviting text, I made my way over to On the Rocks to join the gang with which I had originally planned to slurp and sup. The club was packed, but I bypassed the lineup just by asking the bouncer -- he let me slip in despite my denial of his request to see my best "pouty face" -- and walked right into the arms of my friends. Because my host, who tonight was disappointingly without the most, is usually a crowd favourite and seems to know everyone, we were treated very well and the night culminated the way it should have started -- with good people, solid drinks and music and an all-too-rare opportunity to let loose. Cheers to more of the same please -- but next time, let's save the drama for our mamas.