I read about this bar online called 15 Romolo. It's in a little cutty alley in Northbeach near all the classy strip joints and fancy tourist discos. The menu looked fresh and different, and the drinks sounded amazing, and I had been wanting to go for a while. It turned out Kate had been there, and the Cook was a mutual friend of ours, so we went over there at about 8:30. Upon entering, I find myself face to face with the bartender, who happened to be someone I've known for many years. Kate was not aware of this, but she became aware very quickly. Are you ready for this?
When I was a teenager, I loved to get into trouble, go out drinking, and, of course, make lots of friends. San Francisco is a small city, and everyone knows each other. My Junior year of high school was the hight of my craziness, and also the year that I met this gorgeous guy who's now the bartender at 15 Romolo, and who for now shall remain nameless. Anywho, to make a long story short, Hot Hot Bartender and I hooked up at the height of our youth, and for some reason unknown to me, no one has forgotten about it since. Really. It's like, everywhere I go, if I bump into someone who's friends with HHB, it is brought to my attention that they are completely aware that he and I hooked up when we were kids, and that it's hilarious.
Ok, Ok, I guess I'm leaving out a small piece of info here: HHB lost his virginity to me. It's true. What's worse, it wasn't my first time... Yeah. So this was almost a decade ago, and I still get shit about it all the time. It's like, what's the big fucking deal? So I fucked a hot guy when I was 16! What's wrong with that? What really gets to me about the whole situation is this: Why does everyone know about it? This kid must have had the biggest f-ing mouth ever, because I have literally heard from people who I've just met that they know who I am because of HHB. It's happened several times, and, of course, a couple of those times were huge game-killers. (sigh)
Another funny story involving HHB is this: shortly after moving back to SF in 2007, I was at a bar on Union street called Notte, and there was this sexy bitch pouring drinks. So I go order something, and while he makes it, I introduced myself. He was like, "Hey, I'm HHB." and I was like "Oh my god, that's so funny because I hooked up with this guy named HHB when I was like 16." Then he paused, quite dramatically, followed by "Yeah, Shoshana. That was me." I swear on my life this is a true story, and when he said this, I almost coughed up vodka into his face, I was so surprised! It's like, where do I come up with this shit? What kind of person mentions upon meeting someone that she's slept with a guy who shares his name? What is wrong with me? As I'm sure you can tell by now, things don't always go smoothly with me and men...
So, moving on... Last night, HHB was looking really good. I mean, like ass-grab-worthy. So Kate and I are perched at the bar, checking out the ass, and she's trying to get me to go drink for drink with her (never a good idea), and HHB is pouring us doubles of all these fantastic and delicious cocktails, and the cook, who we know, is bringing us all of these wonderful snacks. This is the good life. The food we ate was: heirloom tomato salad with asiago cheese and herbs, marinated olives, little fried balls of deliciousness also known as jumbalaya balls, and a funnel cake with fresh whipped cream, blackberry carmel sauce and little fruits that are apricot-plum hybrids. Woah. Fancy bar food, right? Also delicious, and eating happens to be a great way to make sure you're able to hang all night. So we're drinking these fantastic cocktails, chatting it up with the randoms that come in, and I'm batting eyelashes at HHB. Sounds like a solid night, right? There's more: I met a guy, too. We'll call him Blue (because of his pretty blue eyes.) While Blue was chatting me up, Kate insists that HHB was sending him nasty vibes... I like that. So I gave my number to this guy, I don't know why. I hate meeting dudes in bars. It never goes well, right? He texted me a bunch this morning, trying to be cute or whatever, and I was just not feeling it due to the intense pain in my stomach, and the urgent need for some kind of fried food.
So to cut to the chase, I got hammered and tried to look sexy while I chatted up HHB but I probably looked more special ed. It was a fun night, but I started to think about R2D2 and sex. Now I know I haven't mentioned him in a minute, but R2D2 is still on my mind somewhat often. We were texting, and it didn't go over that well. That guy makes me crazy! What is it about guys who are so casual and nonchalant about their interactions with females that makes us all bigiggity? All evidence points to the fact that this is not going to work out. I mean, R2D2 and I have no future. That said, the boy is hot and he knows what he's doing, and that definitely counts for something in my book. He's also younger than I am, and that's kinda hot as well. Younger guys have been a bit of a trend since my triumphant return from Israel in May. It might be time to start dating older guys instead. Anyways, after our little text convo, I realized it wasn't happening. As per usual, I ended up feeling like a drunk idiot and going home alone. I did, however, manage to give HHB a lot of love on my way out of the bar (which wasn't until 5 hours after our arrival) and I was almost certain that he watched me walk to the door. At least I hope he did, since I was doing my very best to walk all sexy-like in my 4 1/2 inch stilettos. (Note to reader: walking in stilettos is difficult enough when you're sober.)
Tonight has potential... Here's the big lineup:
- Noah Abelson and I are guest bar tending for "Jew Night" at the Cellar from 8-10
- Precious and I are working a Dos Equis promo (which we used to do all the time, but it's been a while) at some bar on Polk street
Hopefully by midnight, I'll be feeling saucy and NOT going home alone. For Christ's sake, I need some love! It's been a minute since I got any and I'm still a little hung up on that R2D2 bastard...
So what's the moral of this story? I have no clue, but let me tell you something: keep your sex history where it belongs, in the past (or in your blog, I guess.) It's so unfortunate to be known all around town as the girl who HHB lost his virginity to. I would much rather be the girl who he's currently fucking than the one he did a decade ago, right?
*I've decided to add a little treat to this blog post. It's called: "This is the JA-YAM" (That's a two-syllable Jam.) Please go download these jams immediately, and play one or all of them while you read my blog from now on.
- Pursuit of Happiness by KiD KuDi (Ratatat is on this one, and it's epic)
- Knock 'Em Out by Lily Allen
- Fast Car (remix) by Wyclef (sprinkle Lupe Fiasco on anything and I'm in)
- Obsessed by Mariah Carey ('nuff said)
- Anything off the Blueprint 3. Jay-Z is still #1 in my book.
BTW: Contrary to popular belief, I don't actually think I'm black. I just really love great music.
wow, I miss you. Glad to see your not slowin down in my absence
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