In space, no one can hear you eat
2004-05-21 | 1:40 a.m.

Wednesday evening I was over at Ryan, Jon, and the Jew's apartment for dinner and they informed me that we were having a BBQ. Now if any of you have ever been to their apartment before (and I'm going to assume that that's pretty much none of you), you'd have noticed that there really isn't any room for them to actually have a BBQ. I envisioned the evening ending in loss of property, 3rd degree burns, and smoke inhalation...put I was proven wrong when I was shoved up a thin metal ladder and through a small trap door leading out onto the roof of their apartment building.

Apparently cook outs up there are semi regular and it's also a favorite spot to watch the 4th of July firework display over the water. I was really amazed at how much of a spectacular view they had up there. As I sat and ate my hot dogs, I watched the sun set slowly behind the statue of Liberty, and all the lights across the Manhattan skyline slowly turn on. The Staten Island ferry slid quietly across the harbor. The Empire State Building's Spire was awash in blue and yellow. The Bayonne Bridge arched across the water in the distance. A light breeze blew in off the ocean and I sat and wished out loud that I had brought my camera with me.

Jon had brought up a bottle of wine up to the roof and I shared a glass with him as the four of us talked about tidal waves, the Midwest, strange cloud shapes, and our favorite overweight wiccan. It was a true lovely evening. One of those ones that you wish you could have kept a little bit of left over for a nice memory snack at a later point.

Pete's roommate is in the process of packing up all his stuff and moving to northern Jersey so he can be a little bit closer to where he works and thusly cut down on his commute a little bit, but I was still a little bit shocked when I went out into the kitchen a few minutes ago and opened up one of the cupboards and saw that it was pretty much empty. I'm not lying when I say that almost everything that's in the apartment (minus the stuff in Pete's bedroom) all belongs to Pete's roommate. I'm gonna really miss all those cans us useless things taking up space in the cabinets. No, seriously, I don't know what people would ever own some of these can goods. Stuff like canned southern black catfish entrails pie and stuffed pickled pig things. Actually I never really paid any attention to what they actually were, but I'd like to think that they were a little bit more exotic than pumpkin pie filling and Campbell's chicken noodle soup. I can't ever just be ordinary.

Justin and Pete and I went to Jose Tejas for dinner this evening. The place is always crowded so we go fully prepared to wait for a little bit. This evening it was only about 10 minutes, so the three of us stood out by the front doors and made various witty comments about things that caught our eye, as we are apt to do. While Pete was rambling on about he was filled with contempt over something, I noticed that on the doors entering the restaurant it said "Air In side". Actually it said something like "Fresh, Cool Air Inside" a boast to the establishment's mighty air conditioner, but the first part was out of my line of sight so I only caught the end. I stood there for a while thinking about restaurants that might NOT have air inside. An eating establishment that existed within a vacuum, How much fun would that be?? SO MUCH FUN! As you go towards the entrance you're given one of those big, bubble space helmets that they wore in bad 50's sci-fi movies. Waiters and waitresses would go from table to table using little jet packs that made delightful Jetsons-esq 'doot-doot-doot’ flying car noise. I shared this mini-vision with Pete and Justin and they stared at me for a bit, but I staved off their scathing comments by a disembodied voice coming on over the outside loudspeaker calling our names so that we'd know our table was ready.

Just incase you were wondering, I got a steak the size of my face.
It was fucking good.

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