So a bunch of us guys do dinner every so often. Some of us know each other since we were single digits, most others since teenagers, a few since in our 20s.
And of course, what’s the toughest part? Organizing it.
Picking a date and the restaurant are the big things. Who’s going to step up? It’s like a game of chicken.
Fuck it, I’ll do it.
Surprisingly, this time was easy. Got buy-in for a date easily this time. Picked the same place we went to last time. PIECE O CAKE! I booked it a month out. Much easier than I thought it’d be.
So this Saturday, 18 of us are hanging out, having dinner in a town in Nassau County Long Island. A friend lives there, it’s kinda centrally located. 8pm start.
But tonight I figured “maaaaaaaybe I should confirm the res juuuuuuust to be sure.”
“Yeah, we don’t have any reservation under Gratuitous Rex.”
I spoke to a girl on the phone a month ago and she took down the reservation no problem.
“I’m sorry sir, but a reservation for a party of that size had to get approved by a manager. Did you speak to a manager?”
“Sir we don’t even allow parties that big before 9pm anyway.”
Go fuck yourself.
Ok ok I don’t know what happened, and complaining to the management, whom I was already speaking to, won’t do me any good anyway. I don’t have the name of the person who took down my res anyway.
I’ll take 9pm.
Luckily, the guys are ok with it. One had to drop out but he has other things going on. It’ll still be a great time of drinks, good food, playful insults, catching up, lots of “Ay oh!”‘s, old times, lots of Man Hugs with Bro Pats and classic stories.
I can’t wait.