The Least Datable Category of People in the World

One of my best friends lives in Chicago; she is a pragmatic, fiercely smart lawyer named CJ. I emailed her this morning describing my Sunday night outing with my friend Hanson, the highlight of which was the smokin' hot bartender (he works at Angel's in Santa Monica, for anyone who would like to check him out in person). Now, bartenders are pretty much off my dating radar (since most of them are actors, anyway) and frankly, I never trust men that are prettier than I am (and who wants to wake up next to someone prettier than you, anyway? Not me.) However, I would have made an exception for David, a tall, curly-haired, blue-eyed bartender with a calm, easy, charm and a slight Canadian lilt (he's from Montreal. Mais oui.)

The following was CJ's response via email, which gave me a good chuckle:

"Hot and nice isn't all bad, that's for sure. But hot bartenders are, I suspect, pretty much the least datable category of people in the world. It's hard to find a cross section of men who get around more, I'm guessing."

Now...she has a point. I was quick to point out to her that I wasn't ever actually going to go home with him--he has a girlfriend, and I've been around long enough to know that I want no part of that situation. However, had he been single it would have been a whole other situation...I would have donned my head-to-toe latex body condom and LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLL (see what a month of being ignored by the Triathlete does to a perfectly sane woman? Me-ow!) But alas, it was not meant to be.

Aside from our delicious bartender, the other highlight of the evening were the sliders (you knew there had to be a food element to the story, right?) They arrived wearing little mini bun-hats that had been grilled lightly, and were saucily decorated with caramelized onions (a good idea, as I have never met a caramelized onion I didn't like.) When I bit into my little slider, I discovered that blue cheese had been mixed in with the medium-rare beef, so each little bit oozed a bit of blue cheese flavor. Brilliant! I loved it. Although I may be slightly biased (smokin' hot waitstaff tends to make the food taste better) I think it was the best slider I've ever had. So the night was not a complete bust--while David the delectable bartender will have to remain mere fodder for my fantasies, my blue cheese slider was very much a reality. Given my druthers I probably would've taken an order of the bartender and passed on the burger, but seeing as that wasn't in the cards, the slider wasn't a half-bad consolation prize. I think satisfying one of two basic human needs is better than none, right?