dark dinner
The picture above is a quick shot I snapped at dinner with Stephanie tonight. There is nothing wrong with it.
At the last minute tonight, she invited me to a Cosmo party at a lower East Side restaurant called Suma. It was called Dinner-in-the-Dark, for good reason. After 45 minutes of barside mingling, all of the 30 guests (who shelled out their $80), were escorted into a lower level banquet room by waiters in night-vision goggles. I shit you not. The room was completely pitch black. No lights. No candles. Nothing. Each person was individually moved into their seat and a mysterious hand guided them to their wine and water glasses. There was no silverware. But there WAS a 60 Minutes film crew.
30 of us spent the next 2 hours laughing, bullshitting, and eating with out hands in the blackness. Five courses of exquisite food without the benefit of sight. We ate with our hands. We talked about sex, and relationships, and testicles. We were filmed like green, glowing lions on the Serengeti by a crew of “investigative journalists.”
Overheard snippets: “I am a fitting model.” “I have fantastic balls,” “Wanna make out?” “I think your face is about a 3 out of 10. You are a fitting model, so I am sure you have a fantastic body, but I think you’re probably ugly.” “Don’t forget, guys dribble before they shoot” “This is definitely a shake-and-bake lamb ball on a stick!”
I had a great time. It was seriously an incredible experience. Thanks Stephanie for thinking of me…
Be honest - you were the one who said you have “Fantastic Balls”
I was the one who said, “men dribble before they shoot.” But I have no idea when I said it… and please, don’t tell me. And I used the turn of phrase “lamb balls” and then corrected myself a la Chevy Chase in Funny Farm, “Lamb Fries.”
I can testify as the person who sat in the dark next to Chris, that he does indeed have fantastic balls…they would however have been tastier with a sprinkling of shake-and-bake