Sunny with a Chance of Sunnier

Getting caught in the midst of a cocktail meet-up for recent UVA graduates is more challenging than you might think.

They're loud talkers, everyone has a sob story about their job ("I already have an exit strategy") and they're there to network like there's no tomorrow ("I sent you an e-vite, but you never responded"). And they lean over barsitters as if they're not there. I mean, I'm short, but I'm visible.

I know this only because I met a friend at Lemaire tonight and the only two open stools we could find were on the fringes of the UVA group, which continued to grow for about two hours before finally leveling off as people left or took tables to form smaller dinner groups. We were hoarse by the time they thinned out.

Meanwhile, we were just trying to catch up after an inadvertent hiatus since before Thanksgiving. He started with a heavily bruised martini while I ordered a bottle of Fuedo Maccari Syrah Nero D'Alva Renoto for us both to share once he'd gotten his gin fix.

It was one of the $10 Discovery wines for tonight, so the bottle was cheaper than his one drink. Clearly Wednesdays are for winos at Lemaire.

His first and most urgent questions were about my personal life and what progress I had made since our last get-together, apparently a major topic that night, at least the way he remembers it.

He had set his sights unrealistically high, but I filled him in on some of the more amusing evenings and promising people of the past two months. Still, I don't think anything short of an engagement would have impressed him.

To sustain us during such deep conversation, we got the cornmeal-crusted Chesapeake Bay oysters and slaw, the brandy peppercorn-dusted beef tartare and a cheese plate with Humbolt Fog and Tillamook cheddar with fruit. The oysters were a sweet reminder of the pleasures of an "R" month.

He gave me his usual "you need a cell phone" lecture and I ignored it as usual. He told me he'd been repeating the story of how when I'd tried to call him the other day, I'd gotten someone else with his name instead. He thought that was hysterical, while I just thought it was typical of my life.

We talked about a mutual friend who's madly in love and a much sunnier person as a result of it (he said it was the sex, but I like to be a tad more romantic than that) and agreed how nice it is to watch smitten types when they're together.

Part of the reason we first started hanging out together is our eating habits, so he recommended the chicken livers at Joe's Inn and I told him about the warm pate I'd had at the Berkeley last week (he'd never had it warmed, either).

We talked about what rebels we are for eating raw beef and cookie dough, although we're quite sure people have been ingesting both for centuries without a problem.

As we walked out four hours later, his final advice to me was to get busier on my personal life so I'll have more to share when we get together next (fact: married people always want to hear single people stories).

His only concern is that he likes me exactly the way I am now and if, like our friend, I get sunnier all of a sudden, he's not sure how he'll like me.

But he seems to be willing to take the risk to find out.