I figured I'd see a lot of my people tonight.
After all, if I go to the only restro-lounge in town, aren't I likely to see other enthusiastic eaters and loungers?
2113 had its usual orange, cool vibe presence when we arrived to music pulsing and a lively mostly male crowd.
Sliding in, we rearranged stools to put two together.
Conveniently, they were pouring Conde Villar Vinho Verde Rose, meaning low-alcohol, but with far more fruit (not to mention a lovely pink color) than a typical Vinho Verde, along with the usual effervescence.
When I was given free rein to order, I couldn't resist ordering the kinds of dishes my companion didn't used to eat.
Say, pan-fried sweetbreads with sweet carrot and a Grenoblaise sauce, the portion so generous as to be startling or the beets with duck confit with a superb smoked balsamic vinaigrette that made the dish.
Someone's been having a ball with his smoker and the result was stellar.
A guy nearby noticed me and asks if we hadn't met. And it wasn't a line.
We had met at Patrick Henry's over a year ago and talked food and restaurants all evening.
Coincidentally, we did the same tonight.
Bypassing the dessert with tobacco-flavored cotton candy, we got vanilla and olive oil parfait with chocolate crumbles for our last course.
I'm definitely seeing an uptick in 2113's food quality and execution.
Now if only I could see more people coming in for the lounge portion of the equation.
But I couldn't be part of that group tonight because Balliceaux was calling.
Walking in to a mostly full room, I was happy to see a friend and her cute husband in attendance.
She's usually the early-to-bed type, but tonight she'd been to a work function and had a Tall Boy so was enjoying herself immensely now.
Someone noted that the crowd was heavily male and a look around confirmed that.
I believe the technical term is "sausagefest."
There were lots of musicians at the show, so there would have been a serious hardship to the local scene if Balliceaux had gone up in a puff of smoke tonight.
I saw the scientist, who only stayed long enough to say hello and catch up with people.
Every time I turned around to face Dave Watkin's swirling light show, there was a familiar face.
The organizer. The (tardy) photographer.
The former prickly and now sunny one.
The WRIR DJs. The former co-worker. The beer geek.
The expectant singer adjusting to the limitations of pregnancy. The friend who came with his Zep bandmates.
A drummer who just got back from South Africa so we could dish on that subject together.
I even did some Replacements matchmaking.
Simply put, the place was crawling with my people.
White Laces was doing their record release show and DJ Ohbliv was opening.
I'd heard him before and been impressed with his knob turning and mashups so I was unprepared when I overheard a guy observe to his friends, "He's not very good at changing songs. Doesn't he know transitions?"
Clearly he was not getting the point.
Meanwhile, my cute friend laughed at his ignorance and danced on.
The room was full of energy and packed by the time White Laces started playing.
Oh, sure, some of it was the "pretty people" kind.
You know, those people who stand around shouting and laughing loudly while the band tries to play over them.
But a lot of the energy was also the fan variety where people just wanted to listen to a band that keeps sounding better and better with each performance.
All four members are terrific musicians and with each show I see, they push their dynamic range a bit further.
Unfortunately, by the end of their set, my girlfriend was ready to push some of the pretty people in the face.
I wouldn't want to risk knocking them into my people.