Had an absolutely useless dinner last night. Annoying, really. What’s worse was that it was started with good intentions–but, it turned out to be a feckless, tasteless waste of time…
Peanut’s school had what they dubbed their “first annual mixer…” Sounds like fun, eh? New to the school and we could get to know parents of other kids–and we did indeed meet some truly nice people. Our pals Lance and Dee-Dee were there. Barb and John were great as were Manuel and Lily–all very nice.
But, for the most part, there was an abundance of piss-poor wine–and I mean bad, people. 2 buck chuck would have been a positive change. This stuff sucked on a level not previously recorded by man. And the food? It was done by a local long-time landmark in our fair city called Ottavio’s. Now surviving on reputation and tradition, Ottavio’s essentially is an old-world style Italian restaurant. The food is average, the prices are high, there is a full-bar at the actual restaurant (this event was catered at a different venue) though, so I suppose that’s where the money is. Honestly, I’ve lived here in town about 5 years–and before that we’d lived here for about 2 years having left to buy our first house in Ventura–and Ottavio’s has gone down hill since. The ingredients used are obviously cheap and the result is flavorless pasta and sauce. The cost for the event last night was 10 bucks a plate, however. Rather low, yes? Well–now you know why: It sucked.
The rest seemed to be an excuse for most people to get drunk on the aforementioned bad wine and then–and this is the worst part–begin dancing to a pre-recorded mix of 80’s hits like Tears for Fears, the Go-Go’s and Dexie’s Midnight Runners. If the food was enough to make you gag, the music brought you into full-blown vomitrociousness.
Not a whole lot worse than the combination of bad food, bad wine and bad music to ruin an evening. I was glad there were some nice people around because it could have gotten a lot worse. The event began a little after 7 and by 9, I was dragging my wife to the car as fast as I could.
Look–being a dad is fun. So is being an adult. I have no desire to relive my 20’s. If anything, I like to occasionally relive my childhood–but even then, it’s because I want to see it again through my daughter’s eyes. I’m beginning to think that the number of us who actually enjoy being adults–is dwindling. And that’s a scary thought.