The Classy/Trashy Divide

Jen's 23rd birthday dinner was Friday night, and she opted to celebrate at Oceanique, a French-inspired seafood restaurant in Evanston. This was definitely the priciest dinner I've had in long time. In fact, I can't remember the last time I went to a place that meticulously followed service rules for serving women first, counterclockwise around the table. (Had I not been a hotelie for a year and worked Statler banquets, I probably wouldn't have even noticed any of this.) Our water glasses were never more than halfway empty, and the sommelier was able to recommend a great South African wine.

Now for the important part: the food. After perusing the menu online, I was more than a little irritated to see that the menu had changed, and further, that prices had been raised. I ended up ordering the 3-course prix fix, figuring that I could afford to splurge, and it was terrific. I started out with a grilled calamari and shrimp appetizer, served over daikon radish and avocado salad with taro chips. This was followed by intermezzo, a scoop of four-berry sorbet served in a tiny teacup. The entree was tender piece of Alaskan halibut, resting on bright green pesto mashed potatoes. Since it was Jen's birthday dinner, we even got an extra dessert, a chocolate mousse accompanied by fresh fig, mango and berries.

For the occasion, I broke out a dress that I'd picked up at Urban Outfitters on a whim for $96. I rarely buy nice clothing, so this isn't saying much, but this is probably the most expensive item in my closet right now. It's funny how clothing definitely affects your mood; my appearance screamed cute femininity, and I felt an overwhelming urge to bat my eyelashes or go get my nails done.

Then I changed back into jeans after dinner, preparing for a night on the town with the Fed kids. When I showed up in Lincoln Park at midnight:

-Jen T (who has a boyfriend), was getting hit on by some guy, who was plying her with lots of free drinks

-Britton was getting hit on by some married guy, who kept texting her all night.

-Ed almost got into a fight with the guy hitting on Jen. Ed's about the last person I'd expect to ever seen in a bar brawl.

-Finally, Erik just had a minor altercation with some girl who didn't believe the triangle inequality. I think he almost slapped her. (And rightly so, how dare she argue with the power of mathematics!)

Normally, I'm happy to watch the circus that is Lincoln Ave bars, but tonight I left with a feeling of disgust in the pit of my stomach. Perhaps it was the jarring turn of events from the earlier part of the evening. Or maybe I just wasn't in the mood to watch drunken hijinks. Either way, I couldn't get past how ersatz and devoid of meaning the scene was. At the same time though, I must admit that neither am I completely at home in fancy restaurants. Flipping through a wine list with 7 pages of $1000 pinot noirs? That's hardly my comfort zone. I could relate to David's apprehension when he asked what each fork was used for.

All of this means the succeeding night I decided to sit on my couch and watch episodes of the Office on Hulu. Here's to being a fish in water.