Getting Down, Uptown
February 19, 2015
Ever eat at a restaurant whose wine list is longer than their menu? Rick and I did, for dinner on Valentine’s Day. When we arrived at the very upscale restaurant we were told we needed a reservation. Oops! So we nonchalantly strolled over to the bar, found two seats in front of the doors (brrr...) and glanced at their very short menu. Dickens, then Rick said he thought we were too redneck to eat there and I told him to speak for himself, I was a fish in water. Gazing at the menu once more I announced, “I’ll have number eight.” Joking, of course, they weren’t numbered but the prices. “Enjoy, because our next meal will be a McDonalds.” he countered as we laughed, which added fuel to the fire and kept the ‘redneck’ persona going as I said, “Please pass the jellleee!” Dickens, it was so upscale I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to point my pinky in the air when I picked up my salad fork or my wine glass...maybe both. Reaching for my wine glass, pinky extended, I realized you only get half a glass of wine when you’re uptown. Hmmm. Oh...but then...I noticed how the glass sparkled. You would have thought I’d never seen a wine glass before I carried on so about how it appeared absolutely polished. Most places we’ve gone dancing just dunk them in soapy water, then clean water, then hang them out to dry. Shoot! We were so enamored by it we commented to the bartender who said he felt like “I could polish them in my sleep.”
When our food arrived suddenly it was Rick who voiced repeatedly about how he’d never tasted better chicken. So I tried it. Tasted like chicken to me. Anyway, I believe he meant it was so tender it literally melted in your mouth. Ordering the scrumptious red beet salad myself, we ate off each other’s plate, arguably a tad redneck.
But in our defense we didn’t want to eat too much. We were there for the dancing, which we discovered was a fundraiser by the Rotary Club with the Fantastic Shakers as the evening’s entertainment, playing on a 720 square foot stage. Gee, as big as an apartment I rented once. Go figure.
Enjoying dinner immensely, we finished and waltzed across the outdoor plaza to where the Valentine dance was being held. Shag lessons were being taught when we arrived and instead of joining in we perused the silent auction items. Eventually, I bid on a salon offer for $2 but was outbid by the end of the night. (Durn, my ends dusted.)
The dance such a grand affair it was crowded when we walked in, but not overly so. One might assume being uptown at a fancy soiree there might be a few stuffed shirts. On the contrary, there were a lot of red shirts (Valentine’s Day) but none of them stuffy. Everyone was wonderfully friendly and simply enjoying themselves. We finally found Rick’s friend, Dane, who excitedly announced he “got carded” as he held up his wrist band then added, “I told them I was just prematurely gray.” Laughing, I realized it was going to be a great evening because everyone was in such a festive mood.
Placing chairs we decided to sit beside the stage. As soon as all of us were comfortably settled Rick told the band, “Okay, we’re here, you can start now!” the base guitarist laughed because the band was almost ready to start. Dickens, we hit the dance floor on the second song and didn’t get off until that last glass of wine made me sleepy. Yikes! But I’d be keeping secrets if I didn’t share we’ve been practicing. And it paid off because we received numerous compliments. One woman even asked if we belonged to the Hickory Shag Club. Not even thinking I responded, “Oh sweetie, we’re not shagging, we’re just dancing!” Nothing like getting down, uptown!
Can you imagine...polishing wine glasses in your sleep?
Smile, and start dancing!