What swag will and won't buy you

PART II!!

Let's see....last time we left off as Irene and hustled out of the airport and headed back to city for some activities more my style- cocktails, high heels, ill advised bad boys, large mixed crowds of half strangers- you know, the whole "Bright Lights, Big City" thing.

As a side note, for those of you who've seen 'The Descendants', the various scenes of the family hopping on a plane to fly from place to place the way you might get in car are pretty accurate for those of us that live on an archipelago-- flights are cheap and cramming yourself into a tin can to bounce across the friendly skies for about a Benji are commonplace.

After a rest, we dressed up a bit- Irene wearing a killer dress straight out of the Victoria Beckham school of severe sexiness-- a little hounds-tooth sheath that kind of showed more than it hid, if you get my drift, while still being pretty conservative.

We popped into Las Flores, this little tapas and couture cocktail place that I brought a very confused, yet dazzled, Govind a few weeks ago. (We came in separate cabs and by chance I saw a lost soul wandering the streets wearing a badly chosen tee shirt with glitter (proof positive of why you shouldn't let men loose on the SM men's department) on it-- that was him. "Get in the car, yaar!" I yelled. Govind started as if shot and then scuttled over, shirt sparkling, and we toddled over to get some of the BEST cocktails I've ever had).

At Las Flores we mostly talked about dudes we've known and if it's advisable to date a friend or what. (Answer, in short: make sure the dude you're dating is worth the price. I could name names, but I won't!!)

Then soon enough it was time to toddle over to this place Skinny Mike's, where Haydn had assembled a crowd to hang out. In a very typical set up, I dimly recall casually mentioning that Irene was coming to town and exhorting Haydn to find out what the Hollywood 10 were up to, and then forgetting all about it. Then on Friday I get an (as usual) oddly worded text "If you have credit call me." (Uh, street cred? Are we in jail and need bail? Do we want to purchase something online? Nope, he meant "Prepaid minutes". heh.) Turns out that behind the scenes he had rustled up some entertainment and Ash's friend somebody or other was opening a sports bar and we're invited.

Wheels started turning: Irene had been hinting that maybe if the right dude came along, she would be amenable to a date, or maybe more... Ash was cute--- maybe Cupid could strike? Seldom have I been more wrong.

I failed to account for the vast difference between Irene's taste (cute nebbishy dudes who are surprisingly fit, yet wimpsters nonetheless, dedicated, tortured journalists, tall thin drinks of water with 1000 yard stares, etc) and mine (mobsters, professional gamblers, alpha males, street brawlers, international playboys, Russell Brand, etc). The thing is, sometimes we agree on who's cute, so I foolishly thought the raffish, disheveled, arrogant charm of Ash that had floored me, combined with his exceptional eyes and cute accent, would have the same effect on her that it did on me. I sort of forgot a few things: Irene doesn't really like to "play" the game where a charming hustler is hustling you and you both know it, and she doesn't think a man acting like a rooster is in any way adorable. Result: Ash brings out more and more of what women usually like in him, looking like a bigger and bigger fool, while Irene rolls her eyes and looks around for an exit.

Well, 9 drinks and 4 shots between the two of us later and still no dice. Ash was, however, getting a big rise out of table from shooting off such one liners as "I can buy a girl a drink anytime I want to" (Even though Irene said that we'd see about that, he did manage to buy her one) to the general hilarity of those watching him go down in flames. Good times.

The next day we had a total spa day: 3 hours by the Intercon pool, just sunning and swimming, then pedicures. We also went for high tea at TWG, a Singaporean tea merchant and tea house, that served, bar none, the most delicious tea I have ever tasted. They have over 100 blends, all so intensely flavorful and yet delicate that it lead me to remark: "This is tea that tastes like wine." It was that complex, rich, and delightful.

Then a relatively quiet night out: Harbor View and then White Moon bar, which had 180 degree views of the harbor and was lovely, and chatted about funny stories from the golden years in Buffalo.

Here's the story Irene is referring to in her mysterious FB post:

Irene broke up with her BF of 4 years, Brian, and then found out through a mutual friend, Joe, that Brian may have been cheating on her when the relationship was in its final stages. She explained how she was sure of this using the following tangled logic:

Joe was correct in his evaluation of an unrelated 3rd party as a "smokestack beerslut"
Joe had let information somehow slip that led her to believe Brian had played around
Since Joe was such an unimpeachable source of truth (see above "smokestack beerslut"), he must be right
Hence Brian really had cheated. (Not with, surprisingly, aforementioned "smokestack beerslut")

Needless to say this is the SHORT version and minus the 2 glasses of wine that used to turn bookish librarian Irene into wild- eyed- Courtney- Love Irene. Now it's at LEAST 4 until we get to C.L. Irene.

This memory was triggered by seeing the red smokestack on the pleasure boats moored in the harbor. I asked her "Oooh, remember "smokestack beerslut"?" Her (with a funny look) "No! What's THAT?" Heh.

Monday was pretty low key- just breakfast at Bizu, then a bit of shopping, then rest, then a low key dinner at Army Navy, then a few drinks at Heckle. (She had to wake up at like 4 AM for her flight, so we didn't want to go crazy). Oh, and we saw "Beautiful Creatures" at the movie house. Fun, fluffy good times.

Overall, a wonderful trip and a great chance to show off my city to a good friend.