Prime Rib Weekend!

[OK, picture it: Christmas 2005. My sister and brother-in-law (and newborn niece, at least nominally - she's the Cutest and Most Advanced Ever, but at that point she couldn't even hold her head up) give me a generous gift certicate to a San Francisco Institution. (Goodness, there are a lot of those.) I squeal in excitement, knowing it will be a date concept to blow Mr. Lucky Whomever's doors off.]

[Well, procrastination being what it is, I didn't get around to using it when I was still dating someone regularly. Apres ca, I thought, well, I'll take a best friend or two out. Allen and Sean have been filling that role pretty fully for a while now, but Allen's worked like ten jobs with various schedules in the period specified, and Sean's job at the City's Premium Martini Dive makes it difficult to schedule any nighttime activity with him more than a week in advance. Since the House of Cholestrol-Laden Excess requires reservations weeks ahead, I found myself at Christmas 2006 still holding this hefty certificate. It oppressed me with its unfulfilled promise of happy gluttony!]

[Allen, against all prediction, went ahead and turned forty ("I'm not twentyish, I'm not thirtyish..."; no, the All About Eve quotes never really cease around us, why?) on the Ides of March. Instead of doing one big blowout party like Charlotte did last year, he declared the weeks before and after the date his Birthday Eon or Era, and has been doing lots of little celebrations here and there with his various friends. (He has lots, by the way; just try walking with him thru the Castro and Mission part of the beautiful green forest without running into five people he's worked/slept/lived/performed with.) We finally decided to get our beef on already as part of Birthday Eon or Era, and set a date certain. If Sean could make it, great! If not, we were gonna do it anyway.]

[About a month ago, I called the House of Bloody Carnivorous Joy and made my reservation for tomorrow, the 31st. Sean has managed to carve out a weekend night away from Martuni's, and has confirmed. At some point, a text conversation went awry (as they so often do), and we started calling this Prime Rib Weekend, or PRW. This morning, Allen called me and howled in his best WWF/heavy metal voice "PRIME RIB WEEKEND!" I hope he doesn't repeat that performance when we alight at the maitre d' station tomorrow evening.]

[I've eschewed beef all this week so I'd really be craving what the House of Unsustainable Dietary Habits has to offer. Oh, yes: there will be substantial preprandial martinis; Yorkshire pudding (though I know my homemade version is superior); copious red-based vintages; creamed spinach; horseradish sauce; and possibly a roasted potato or two. What's the point having arteries if you can't clog them, right?]

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