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Bossy Spent $120 On Dinner And She’s Going To Tell You Every Detail.

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Last night, Bossy had the opportunity to dine in a four-star restaurant, where opportunity equals eating peanut butter with butter sandwiches for the rest of her life while she recoups her money.

The occasion was a birthday, and that birthday belonged to Bossy’s friend Franz who had assembled various writers for the exclusive one-seating-per-night meal. Bossy arrived early, as she was eager to meet and network with these various writers.

The evening began with introductions. And champagne. And more champagne, which Bossy was in the unique position to drink since she arrived so early.

While Bossy sipped her champagne champagnes, Bossy was introduced to a writer and his wife. Only, he wasn’t the writer, she was. Bossy thinks. Possibly he was a writer too—Bossy didn’t catch their names.

Next Bossy was introduced to another writer. He was from out of town. Unless he wasn’t from out of town. Bossy had another champagne. Then Bossy met another writer and she really liked this writer. Except he wasn’t a writer, he was a veterinarian.

At some point, crab on crackers happened. And meat on sticks. Or maybe that was duck.

Next Bossy met another writer, and this writer was a food critic, and this writer the food critic sat next to Bossy as the group transitioned to the table for dinner. Most of Bossy’s new writer friends whose names she didn’t catch had previously dined in this exclusive restaurant booked years in advance—but not Bossy, who was excited to sample the menu.

First there was a delicate little puff of something with food inside. Next there was a simmering bowl of something with a spoon of something on the side. And then there was grass-fed something with a hint of citrus, and then there was pomme de something with a dash of Old Bay Seasoning.

food

And throughout the dinner there was wine—and here’s exactly what kind: white.
And red.

wine

And then Bossy’s new friend the writer veterinarian borrowed Bossy’s camera so he could take a portrait of Bossy.

bossy-dinner

And before you could say Is that more dessert wine? the evening drew to a close, covered in chocolate sauce, with a cream puff on top.

franz-birthday

Reader Interactions

Comments

  1. The whole evening sounds like a big success!

    But, if you’re at the point you may be imagining guitars serenading however, then that might be a line not to cross! No more dessert wine then! (or in the alternative wth!)

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  5. They way I count the blobs on the plate, that dinner was $12/bite.

    I ate at a restaurant in LA, that cost me $1/minute. Can’t recall what our blobs were, though.

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  8. Oh Bossy that sounds like a fun evening. Even if you do have to eat Peanut Butter and Butter sandwiches all month it was probably worth it. My grandma use to make the same kind of sandwiches for me, I haven’t thought about those for years. Bossy’s bring back Peanut Butter and Butter.

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  9. Jealous! I LOVE food experiences like that. And I’ve been without them for too long living in this little corner of OK.
    On a totally different subject – your hair is getting long. Or is it usually pulled back?

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  15. I, too, want to say Bossy’s hair looks amazing! If only my naturally curly, naturally stubborn hair could looks as good. *sigh*

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  19. In the Blame segment of this post, I think Bossy is hoarding everyone’s wine. Or maybe it’s an optical illusion that all the wine glasses are right smack in front of Bossy.
    I love 5 stars.

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  27. Question: Did Bossy squat down on purpose to achieve the arty effect in that last photo or did Bossy just happen to find herself conveniently laying on the floor with a camera in her hand due to the champagne? Either way, cool photo…

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  28. I had a meal like this once in my life. In NYC. As a poor graduate student with an almost-brother-in-law who paid for me and my now-husband to join a group of his friends for a 7 course meal of astonishing delicacies accompanied by wines I could not pronounce but could have used to pay my tuition with. It was heavenly. So much so that we walked home over 30 blocks, me in pinchy satin heels that were too small (but so pretty!), without even noticing how far it was because we were still floating on clouds of deliciousness.

    Then we slept for a week.

    I hope you floated home too.

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  30. Bossy looks all blurry in that photo. Is that camera shake or is that how Bossy normally looks after a gazillion glasses of – nope. It’s camera shake.

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  44. Ohhh, I had a dinner like that once, at a fancy french restaurant where I ate tiny little things I never would have considered eating except that I had waaaay too much fancy french wine and by the end of the meal I got in the car (passenger side!) and told my husband he better know how to get home because I didn’t even know where I was at that moment. Ouch.

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  46. Nobody’s mentioned Popeye and Olive Oyl yet! I love that (a) for some unknown, odd reason they’re gracing the countertop behind the Birthday Boy and (b) Bossy made a point of pointing them out. Okay, so WHY would such a classy upscale expensive joint have cheesy little dolls in it? And why is the usually tall lean Olive Oyl so short? I’m just full of questions today.

    I want that much wine.

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  50. I’m assuming all of those glasses in both of the pictures are Bossy’s?

    *burp*

    Also? I second everyone’s opinion in here who is raving about your hair. Divine! (Rhymes with wine. And that is called APPROPRIATE.)

    Reply

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