Week 47: No Brunch: Just Some Vows, Goat Cheese Balls, and Neil Diamond.

Week 47: No Brunch: Just Some Vows, Goat Cheese Balls, and Neil Diamond.

Fly Bar & Restaurant, Tampa FL: A place for hipsters, young professionals, and all those in between to gather and indulge in food, booze and one another. The music is great 50% of the time and after the sun goes down the interior lighting is always dim, which I appreciate. It’s dim lighting and liquor goggles that secured me half the assgrab in college.

The location itself is quite special to Ryan and I. Ryan and I had one of our first adult dates at Fly, which ended abruptly to say the least but years later we’re getting married so if there’s an underlying message to anything it’s that your mother is wrong. Sometimes playing the prim and proper prude will only land you the prim and proper dude. Boring.

Today, Fly Bar& Restaurant is a bit more meaningful to another couple, Greg and Caroline. Why you ask? Because it’s their wedding day. Those chucklefucks; what a great idea. Why didn’t I think of that?! Chucklefucks is a new word I invented while pretending to work out several days ago. I received a text message that contained the word “clusterfuck,” but while bouncing up and down at “such a rapid pace” on the elliptical I accidentally read it as “chucklefuck.” I have yet to determine the definition but have been using it as a noun, adjective and verb. It seems to seamlessly fit into any sentence regardless of the context and may very well become a staple in my vocabulary. Until of course I have kids that run around the estate eating finger sandwiches and maturely yelling “chuckefawk” at one another as they engage in a game of bocce.

Back to Fly – Aside from being an awesome wedding venue (you’d never think of that, so clever), Fly has lots of trendy adult beverages and FOOD. Awesome food. Today we’re limited to the bride & groom’s selection, but we typically order Shrimp and Grits, Scallops, and their mouth-watering Macaroni and Cheese.

Today’s selection includes Goat Cheese Balls, Lettuce Wraps, Couscous, Hummus, and Fries (Not just any fries, fries you won’t stop eating until you feel a bit of nausea coming on. Even then you may continue). It’s an open bar but the drink of choice for the men is the “Wrong End of The Gun” – A signature Fly cocktail including Bullet Bourbon, Elderflower Liqueur, and Sour Mix. Word quickly gets around that it is capable of putting hair on your chest and scoring yourself a lady.

Speaking of ladies, I don’t know anyone here aside the bride, groom, and a friend of Ryan’s who has brought an ex-Maxim model as his date. Her glory days are over due to discovering marijuana and red velvet cupcakes at 358 calories a pop. We don’t have much in common; I’m personally a fan of plain ole’ chocolate or vanilla. I’ll avoid the situation and make friends with the Vanilla Vodka in front of me. Mmmmhmm like frosting on the rocks, very strong frosting on the rocks.

These Goat Cheese Balls are the best thing to have ever crossed my path… 3, 4, 5, 6… Eh. Who the hell is counting? I don’t have a “fashion” portfolio to stick to. In the middle of swallowing balls an unknown acquaintance of Ryan’s approaches us. They talk for a full ten minutes and he does not introduce me. When he leaves I scold Ryan for being awful at introducing me to people. “That was on purpose Michelle, because I don’t like him one bit.” Is this what marriage is? Deciding who we do and don’t like for one another?

Moving on: Stuffed with Goat Cheese Balls and a strong buzz of frosting concoctions, we take off for the Neil Diamond concert. Neil sings one good song and it happens to have something in common with the bride: Sweet Caroline. People like myself from Boston love Sweet Caroline because it’s been playing at the Sox games since 1997 (despite the song coming out in the early 1970s). Rumor has it the song was written about Caroline Kennedy at the tender age of 11. Neil’s a creeper. Ehh, still love it. I begin to think back to when I was 11 – Did anyone think of writing a song for me? The Meatball Song?!?!??! SHIT. Childhood obesity at its finest. Comes with a damn song.

As we enter the suite I’m exhausted and need to stop drinking. Work in the morning ruins everything. As I find a seat near Neil, a flirtatious Indian approaches me. For some reason this is not uncommon. I actually never wear gold jewelry in fear of looking too Indian myself. In college we had an assignment called “Global Village” and our group was assigned India. Naturally I threw on an orange sari, pulled my hair back and placed a bindi on my head. Funny? I think not. No one even noticed I was playing a part.  Ryan approaches to mark his territory. Unfortunately Ryan is unlike my cat so marking his territory typically means something like shaking hands with the boy in a stern manner, or kissing my neck in True Blood fashion (this depends on BAC). It would be a lot funnier if he just went ahead and peed on people.

Round 2: Tampa Times Forum Suite Grub. Now, we know that not everyone is going to “buy a suite” at the Tampa Times Forum. But, in the event that you’re ever in the position of entertaining- here’s your menu: Crab Cakes, “Make Your Own” Burger and Chicken Sliders, Jalapeno Stuffed Shrimp, Salads, Spring Rolls and Brownies. Good Lord. There wasn’t a bad thing about that buffet and if they opened a tiny restaurant in there serving all of the above I’d be there much more often.

So, congratulations Caroline and Greg. I apologize for using your wedding as the foundation of a chronicle, but your damn agenda required that we skip brunch. Neither a lofty degree of intelligence nor imagination nor both together go to the making of genius. Love, love, love, that is the soul of genius. ( – Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. C’mon, you weren’t going to rely on me for something beautiful, were you?)  

    
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2 Comments

  1. I just wanted to share that I used the word fucktard for the first time yesterday. I had it on the chalkboard of my mind, but was saving it for just the right play. In my situation, it was most appropriately used as a noun — as in, “YOU are a total fucktard!” [Not YOU as in YOU, the lovely who provided this grand word to my vocabulary -- it was directed towards the recipient of my exploding verbal vomit.] I have to say, I felt just a little bit less stressed after I said it. Today, I used it as an adjective and it was just as rewarding. “That’s a fucktard way of doing things.” So, thank you! As a neighbor to this fabulous coupIe, I should have known the room was filled with many people of great genuis. ;)

    August 14, 2012 @ 1:13 pm
  2. admin

    LOVE. LOVE. LOVE.

    August 16, 2012 @ 6:46 pm

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