On Friday evening, I took myself on the date that my ex-boyfriend of more than two years ago unaccountably suggested in April that we go on in June. After which, unsurprisingly, he never contacted me again. I know. It didn't make a lot of sense to me either, but there it is. Anyway, despite being elusive, eccentric, and erratic, he did take me to many lovely places, so I thought I'd see if he was still had the knack.
He does. It's a shame he wasn't there, really. He'd have liked it.
After bemoaning San Francisco on Friday, I feel I must recant. Noir Lounge is very appealing. In its favor, it does not look exactly like every other new bar in San Francisco. I am always excited when someone goes for warm and comfortable instead of stark and modern. They do play music incongruous with the atmosphere they are ostensibly trying to evoke, but that seems to be the norm; c'est la vie.
I got there early and so got a handsome wingback chair right by the window where there was plenty of light for me to forge ahead with Rebecca Solnit. I had a glass of wine, a very nice caprese salad (oh, ripe tomatoes, how I will miss you come winter), and, failing once more to stay on the culinary path of righteousness, some homemade tater tots. As a bonus, my waiter had very enviable posture. Hooray.
You might like it. You can wait for your ex to ask if you might have some free time in two months, or you could just go now. Whichever.
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