Drinking a Chimay Red at the Bayou, I said to Bryan, “If I mention too many advertisers in City Weekly’s gift guide, will it look like I’ve sold out?”
“Then write about the Bayou’s Beervana selection,” he said. “But that’s just how I roll.”
Bryan won’t admit it, but he sold out a long time ago. He sold his soul to the devil for a bag of Doritos and the ability to win any nickel-or-dime bar bet. On Wednesday night at the Republican, we were drinking its $4 Tetley’s special, and I bet him his cat weighed more than 15 pounds.
When it weighed in at 14.6 pounds, I ended up buying Bryan dinner at Suehiro Sushi. It advertises its sushi as, “This is how we roll.” For as often as Bryan says he rolls this way or that, I figured it was either take him to this sushi restaurant or get a baker’s dozen at the Great Harvest Bread Company.
The plus side to losing a bet to Bryan is that I didn’t win. The last time I won a bet, I ended up eating the couponed lesser entrée to his greater-value purchase at Monsoon Thai. The food was spicy and delicious, but I couldn’t help but feel burned. On the one hand, like winning a poker game at Piper Down on Tuesday night, I got a free dinner. On the other hand, there wasn’t any money in the pot.
You see, I still have leftover KitKat bars and M&Ms in my Halloween bowl, and I haven’t even digested the Budweiser or turkey for Thanksgiving dinner. And yet, I’m being asked to highlight gifts people can buy for Christmas, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah or Festivus.
Sometimes, I feel like I’m a living version of an independent film at the Broadway or Tower Cinema. The protagonist is played by me and the antagonist is City Weekly.
It’s ’80s night at Habits, and this is the second time Bryan and I have been to this club. I guess this makes it a habit. We’re supposed to be dressed up like our favorite ’80s character. I come as myself, and Bryan does, too.
“Where’d you get glasses like mine?” I ask.
“At the Spectacle in Trolley Square,” Bryan says as Billy Idol sings “Dancing With Myself,” a very ominous song for the evening. If we wanted to dance tonight, we should have shopped at Urban Blues, not Deseret Industries. Dressed like a couple of Flock of Seagulls rejects, our best chance of getting a date tonight would be by calling the Allure Escort service, so we leave to find a quieter place to drink.
“Should we go to Burt’s or Port O’Call?” Bryan asks.
“I was thinking the Urban Lounge or Lumpy’s.”
Thanks to this cool device I bought from Sound Warehouse, we get into my prewarmed car on this chilly way-too-soon-to-think-about-the-holidays-night and head over to Junior’s. Or was it Brewvies?
“Remember the other night, when I was talking about selling out?”
“On Wednesday, when my cat weighed 14.6 pounds and Tetley’s were only $4 at the Republican?”
“No, I think it was at the Bayou when we were drinking our way around the world. So, should I sell out and write about gifts and different businesses around Salt Lake City, or write about the Bayou and the Republican?
“As part owner of the IT solutions company Critical Spoke, I’d do both,” Bryan said holding a bag of Doritos. “But that’s just how I roll.