Night Out

Before I begin, let me do my part in a web experiment. This is truth

Last night, we went to a play, Humble Boy by Charlotte Jones, about a young theoretical astrophysicist who returns home to his bee-keeping father's funeral to find that his obnoxious and domineering mother has been having an affair with another man. He struggles to cope with his relationship with his mother and her lover and with his own history of running away from things he could not control. Ultimately, what emerges in the midst of this chaos is a touching rebirth of long-lost familial ties. The first act was, to me, almost unbearably slow-paced and too long at 1 hour 25 minutes. The second act was a much faster-paced experience and much more engaging. It was worth seeing, but I'm looking forward to the next offering of the season, Who's Afraid of Virginia Wolf?

We had been invited to a wine reception at the theater before the play. Because both my wife and I worked most of the day Saturday, we did not have time to eat dinner beforehand. Consequently, by the time the overly-long play was over at 10:50 pm, we were famished. We walked to our old stand-by sushi spot about 5 minutes away, hoping they would still be open. Fortunately, they were (until 11:30), so we dashed in and put in an order for 2 pieces of toro tuna, 2 pieces of unagi, and a 'volcano roll,' a wonderful dish with crunchy sushi rolls (rice filled with crisp veggies) topped with a spicy scallops and crawfish sauce. Altogether, it really wasn't much food for the two of us, but it hit the spot. I ordered a cold sake, too, just because I could. All told, the bill came to $48 with tip, a rather outlandish amount but, since we do it so rarely, worth the money to cap off the evening.

As we sat at the bar eating, we couldn't help overhearing two young women, dressed in their finest let's go hunting yuppie men cleavage-revealing clothes, seated next to us at the bar talking about their lives. We tried not to listen, but frequently I heard comments about bad boyfriends and losing jobs and moving to new cities, etc., etc.

When one of them left to go to the women's room, the other engaged us in conversation. She said she had recently lost her high-paying PR job, which she had held for eight years, with a country club management organization and was considering her options. She is single, has no ties to the Dallas area except friends, and is ready to settle down and have children. But, she said, "I haven't met the right guy yet. I've met the wrong guy twice right here at this bar. Two relationships with the wrong guy started right here."

Tonight, she said, she was beginning the procss of deciding whether to find a job in Dallas, move to New York, or move to Austin. She felt confident she could find a high-paying job anywhere she went. We talked a bit about her options and told her how much we had enjoyed living in downtown Chicago...and how nice it would be to live in New York, if the money was sufficient.

She explained that she lived in a loft apartment nearby and loved the area...she and her friends could go bar-hopping without worrying about driving home. In fact, she said, when they left the sushi place, they were going to Avanti for martinis and then to another place for more drinks and night-life, all within a very small radias of this very spot! It was girl's night out, she explained, and they were going to have a good time. "Would you all like to come with us? We're going to Avanti next, and even though you aren't a girl," she said looking at me, "you can come, too, if you don't mind us giggling."

I thanked her for the invitation, but explained that I had to drive and we would have to decline. Her friend finally returned (about 10-15 minutes later) and they left, wishing us a wonderful night. After they left, I wondered aloud whether she thought a third chance meeting in a bar might be a charm in her search for a husband.