Close Encounter of the Drinky Poo Kind

Good morning friends!  Fridays are alright with me :)  (Does anyone know how to put a smiley face or frown or whatever on a post that isn't done with punctuation marks?  Just curious - some people do it a lot and I can't figure it out.  Not that it would add anything to my scintillating ramblings)

As always, I got the best comments from my speedwritten post yesterday.  Thanks all for affirming both the mixed emotions related to being whatever age we are...and claiming youthful attitudes and minds in spite of it all.  Tammy cracked me up noting how I wrote about PF Changs and diarrhea in one post.  Nurses are earthy creatures, I suppose.  I remember going to lunch when I worked on a med-surg floor in a hospital many moon ago and we'd all be discussing the most disgusting things going on back in our unit while simultaneously shoving in the chow! 

I'm glad to report my GI tract seems to be settling down to almost it's usual cast iron status.  PF Changs turned out to be a mixed bag for me.  My friend wanted to pick me up a little after 6, thereby putting our arrival time around 6:30.  I warned her the place would be mobbed and we'd have to wait for awhile if we went that late (I know it's really early but at PFC's it was equivalent to a late arrival), but she was okay with it so it was fine with me.

When we got to the parking lot, we circled for 5 minutes just to find a remote space.  We entered to claw our way through throngs of people already waiting.  The noise level of clanking dishes, talking voices and pinging of glasses was already considerable.  The hostess cheerily welcomed us and when we said "table for 2", she said it would be 30 - 40 minutes for a table but that we could sit at the bar and still get the full service menu.  She glanced back and did a Vanna White sweep with her hand to indicate the beautiful dark wood bar that spanned the entire back of the caverous space, and further noted, "You'll love the bartenders!  They're very entertaining!" 

Recall I'm a recovering alcoholic (like you could forget that if you've read me more than once!)  who never met a bar she didn't love - dives, hole in the walls, sleek jazz piano bars, English pubs, preppie country club bar scenes, garden variety watering holes...think comfort zone of the past.  Schmoozing and making nice with the barkeeps and fellow imbibers.  Think Leslie as boozy broad who came alive when plunked down in any alcohol purveying establishment.  Including my own kitchen.   But Not Anymore.  I gracefully wrinkled my nose at the suggestion of the bar (knowing it would play with my head the entire evening), and my friend would have been more than willing to go somewhere else (neither of us wanted to wait), but it was too much hassle to do anything other that staying, so I just said it would be fine. 

The entertaining bartender assigned to us was the affable and glad-handing Jason - who greeted us by asking our names and shoving the very extensive bar menu into our hands.  2 sided, 8 1/2 x 11 laminated document listing every possible booze conconction available.  I immediately handed it back, noting I wouldn't be needing it (whether or not I was drinking I wouldn't have needed it) and asked for a diet coke and my friend got iced tea.  Jason then inquired as to our history at PFC's, and as it was my friend's first time, he regaled her with a list of what he considered to be "the best of the offerings".   We settled on his #1 recommendation which was the Oolong Sea Bass, along with splitting the lettuce wraps for an appetizer. 

The food was great - honestly it might have been the best sea bass I've ever had.  My friend was swooning over the food, but like me was finding the "ambience" a little challenging.  People seated around us were well on their ways to being 3 sheets to the wind...loud, obnoxious, trying to engage us in conversation when Diana and I were clearly having a deep conversation of our own.  One guy sidled up to the bar carrying a large jar of green olives.?  Not sure why, but apparently it was a hit as many of the bar scene folks were dishing out spoonfuls of the olives to put on their napkins and pop into their pie holes (I hate that term but it fits).  BYO olives?  I guess I've been out of the scene too long.  It was very loud with people leaning against the backs of our stools and Diana got elbowed solidly in her shoulder blade while trying to negotitate a lettuce wrap.

Now given my kneejerk aversion to this whole scenario of loud and tipsy people, just underneath the surface I was also looking at the bottles and glasses, the shiny wood of the bar, the glistening within tall Pilsner glasses of exotic brews, and thinking, "I could totally enter back into this life."!!!  WTF?  See, a bar is no place for this recovering alcoholic, because no matter how long it's been since the last drink the allure is still there and my inner alcoholic inevitably stands to attention when the magic elixir (anything with alcohol) is within arm's length.  I almost never even think of a drink, but when sitting center stage in a bar, what else is a self-respecting alcoholic going to think of?  Which is why I don't go to bars.  Or cocktail parties.  Or out to dinner with people who drink when I'm the only non-drinker.  It feels like I stuck out like a sore thumb back when I was drinking, and I stick out like one now when I'm the only one not partaking.  Best to leave it out.  "When in doubt, leave it out."  Yes.

And how surreal is it that during part of this experience, while I'm talking to my friend at one level while thinking about drinking from a different place in my brain, I was telling my friend about the AA International Convention!  Weird city, man!  And then, on the way home while I'm telling her about 60,000+  recovering alcoholics gathered for this convention, she asks, "So do these people have a drink or 2 with dinner, do you think?"  WHAT???  NO!!! The whole evening became a close encounter with alcohol of the STRANGE kind.

Well here I go turning a perfectly nice little weight loss wannabe blog into a rant about alcohol in society!  Thanks for enduring, if you did.  If you didn't, I understand.  Also, please know I'm not one of those recovering types who thinks everybody that drinks is an alcoholic.  Not at all.  The only person I assess regarding alcohol is myself, and that's how it should be.  I wouldn't give anything for my sober life today and I want to keep it that way.

Back to weight loss...rather weight stagnation.  As I predicted, a 2 pound gain showed up on the scale this morning from the PFC food, but I know it will flush away quickly.  I'm dousing my innards with water in hopes of mobilizing the dampness within, thereby rendering my weight back to where it was the day prior.
Any my overall take on PF Changs - not that you asked - is that the food is good, esp. the sea bass.  The lettuce wraps were rife with fat and chemicals...I could taste them.  They tasted great, but I just know they're a caloric and health seeker's nightmare...other than the lettuce!  The bass was awesome but also tasted quite salty and seasoned.  Given the noise, the crowd, the bar and the whole atmosphere, I think it'll be a long time before I go back.  Just not a good fit for Leslie today.