Brunch with the man who made Me a geekboy's dreamgirl
I had brunch over at 9th Street Market yesterday with one of my oldest friends, Jeff. I hadn't been there is a couple of years, but I assure you, the french toast is still sublime. Jeff is just good company. I can't believe I've known him since I was 14 or 15. He is angry, bitter, sarcastic and a total riot. He is the one responsible (I may have written about this before) for making Me seem like a geekboy dreamgirl back in HS & college. He turned Me onto ska and taught Me about comix. In return, I shaved his head regularly and fuck, I dunno whatelse I brought to the relationship other than always arriving at his mom's house just in time for dinner and six hours of bitching and whining over caffeine and nicotine. I'm just glad we are still in eachother's lives. After brunch we embarked on the buy Jeff new sneakers crusade. He shops like a girl. He didn't even like anything we saw at the first 6 stores, then when he was finally willing and ready to try on a pair, they didn't have his size. When we finally settled on a pair of black leather nikes, we bickered about whether he should wear them out of the store. I think we frightened the poor sales girl. I then introduced him to the ridiculous decadence of Cold Stone Creamery. Cake batter flavored ice cream. I need say no more about the product, but if you are into public humiliation, this a jackpot situation. The staff is required to SING each time they receive a tip. Not just the person at the register and not just a one liner, an entire song!