Discolor Online

Weblog of the sweetest person you never want to piss off.


Ipanema Grill

Introduced Lemuriapress and bbcaddict to the Ipanema Grill last night. bbcaddict was nice to come out with us even though she's just getting over an illness. We were seated at the same table that hosted our party during the Green Ronin summit in October and weladies were positioned with a view of the big video screen that was playing footage of Carnival floats along Rio's Sambodrome. Carnival 2007 is February 17, 18, 19, 20... there's still time, Lemuriapress.

The meat was particularly good last night, especially if you like it rare. Mmmm, rare meat. I made the mistake I always make in trying the chicken (which is ok but just doesn't compare to, say, salt-crusted tri-tip or steak threaded with cheese). One by one we dropped out, sated and I really thought I was done but revived myself for not one but two slices of grilled pineapple dusted with cinnamon. So good.

After dinner Chris and I headed over to the ZigZag for one drink and to congratulate Murray on his appearance on Playboy's list of the top ten bartenders in America, as it was practically on the way to the bus stop (if you don't count the thirteen flights of pedestrian stairs).

Slept well last night. Safeway is delivering coffee and other staples for life sometime between 10:00 and noon, and then I'm off to get Kate at around 2:00. Sounds like I have just enough time to play a little Viva Piņata on our newly restored and returned XBox 360. Lazy Sunday!

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Got together last night with a friend who is in town for WrestleMania. So weird to think of people coming across the country for something like this! We met him at his hotel and then sauntered five blocks straight downhill to The Bookstore bar at the Alexis Hotel. Back when Ray and Christine lived in Chicago but came to town on business, the Bookstore was their favorite haunt. We looked around for Christian, the server who always had the best gossip about what celebs were in town, but there was only the slightly bored and irritated waitress to be found.

Hal had been going on about his ephiphany over bourbon in Vegas, so I went to their booze list and asked for some help picking a bourbon to try. Ms. Irritated didn't seem in the mood to help me expand my horizons and gave a couple half-hearted suggestions off the list, so I gave it the ol' college try and picked one at random. Turned out to be $13 a shot, and not the kind of thing that would make me wonder what I'd been missing. Shoulda stuck to the Macallan 18-year, at least I know that's what I like.

It was good to hang with Zev. We reminisced about the time we all found ourselves in Germany at the Essen Game Fair. Several of us had hooked up for dinner, wandering into a steak house of some sort where we were fairly unwelcome Americans. After hanging around too late at the restaurant, we searched for somewhere to carry on our rowdy conversation (extra-exhuberent because of riotous Paul, our loud, old-school-punker, stereotypical New Yorker friend) we found that Zev's hotel had no lobby to speak of, so we moved to the room. At some point, while we were in the midst of loudly discussing sexual deviancy or Nazis or stories of Paul's adventures, the phone rang. Mild-mannered Zev answers the phone and from our side of the conversation we hear "Hello...No...Yes, ok, sorry. Yes, sorry. Ok." We wait expectantly to be filled in on what's happening. Zev hangs up. Apparently the front desk had called up and said "Have you a fire? No? Then perhaps you could be quiet? Your neighbors are trying to sleep." Ouch. We tried talking quietly for another half an hour or so, but invariably the volume and intensity of the conversation would creep up and Paul would be half-shouting and Zev would be spasming "Shh, SHHH!" We decided it would be best to sneak out of the hotel before we got Zev evicted from his room.

Good times. Maybe we can do it again this year.

We tried to vacate The Bookstore in favor of cheap late-night eats at McCormick and Schmicks, but it was crowded with young couples and hipsters who'd staked out their turf early. We decided to pack it in and head home instead.

I briefly considered taking Zev to the Zig Zag, but since he doesn't drink I didn't want to drag him all that way from his hotel so he could drink water there too. Judging from other reports, sounds like we missed out on crossing paths with some other fun-loving friends out for the night.

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