Now you've lit my fuse

I have never cared for Valentine's Day. all the pink and red felt, balloons, lace doilies, and cheesy cards just make me want to vomick. and why put someone through all of this? i guess some women do find it romantic, but that is beyond me. and then you are chastised should you show up without flowers or a card in hand. I don't know why I feel this way, maybe because the only Valentine's day I can remember was about three years ago and it marked the beginning of the end of my relationship.

so I planned on a quiet night at home. until my cute coworker Jason informed me that he would rather not spend his night at home in Kansas.... I mean Canton. I could only picture him curled up in bed watching Women's entertainment and polishing off a magnum of Yellow Tail. I suggested we grab a bite to eat after work...

So we drove around midtown trying to think of a suitable place to grab dinner, as he was wearing a baseball cap and a t-shirt. we decided to try Atlantic Station, though I insisted that we avoid Copeland Cheesecake crap. we settled for a glass of wine at the bar at CPK. Which was just fine by me as they pour J. Lohr, one of my favorite everyday cabernets. turns out, the majority of the staff at this location are gay, and Bruce and Charles took a likin' to us. So we continued to smile and drink and eat and smile and drink and soon we were full and tipsy. So nice when the bill arrived and it was only $50.

I think one of them told me they used to perform in drag shows at Backstreet under the name "Gender Snap". Then he also told us he hadn't slept the night before and was wondering what we were doing later. That was our cue to leave.

next up: an interview in Santa Clara and a weekend with Beaux in San Francisco.