Pretty Fly for a Tongue-Eater

My evening in ten words or less: From pop-up to porn, with a fly finish.

It was tres amigos night for the girlfriends and me at Pasture because they were doing a Hispania Bakery pop-up for their Taco Tuesday spectacular.

As if that wasn't enough of an incentive, DJ Marty of Steady Sounds was providing the appropriate mood music.

The girls and I took a table by the wall for a good view of the room as two of us sipped Spanish rose and the third tried tonight's special drink, a mango/Thai chili margarita.

I'm no cocktail expert, but the subtly sweet start and slow-burn finish made for a nicely balanced sipper.

Because inquiring minds want to know, co-owner Michele stopped by to give us the backstory on the inspiration for tonight's fun.

Seems she'd fallen in love with the desserts Maria makes for Hispania, but found getting up early enough to make it to the farmer's market to get them too challenging.

I felt her pain.

There are many things I'd like to try at the farmer's market but there's not a snowball's chance in hell I'll be up early enough to do it.

Cleverly, Michele brought the desserts to her...and to us.

A funny story about her birthday gifts to two of the kitchen staff ended with the hysterical, "I'm not Paula Deen, I'm just inappropriate!"

I don't know if the sombrero the chef was wearing helped his cooking skills, but tonight's specials suited us just fine.

My favorite were the tongue and guacamole tacos, but I also enjoyed the shrimp tacos and the elotes al estilo Mexicano, a mayo-rubbed ear of corn, spiced and with cheese.

I love $3 food.

While the restaurant continued to get busier, we gave each other love life advice and talked about musicians we know.

It required more Rose and a Pulaski (whiskey and a pickleback) while we wished the din of the room wasn't drowning out Marty's smooth sounds.

As we discussed, there can be no possible relationships with men who don't share our passion for music.

But we also couldn't lose sight of the reason for the evening (dessert, hello?!), so two of us ordered cookie plates, which came with a glass of horchata.

It may have been my first horchata, but it was not my friend's.

Seems when she was in California on her honeymoon, she (and her cute husband) made it her mission to try as many horchatas as possible.

She deemed tonight's excellent and while I sipped some of it with my spicy chocolate diablo cookie (dark chocolate ganache, cinnamon, habanero) and cinnamon-dulce de leche cookie (sprinkled with sea salt), I found my second glass of Rose went almost as well.

I have to say, it sure was delightful getting to eat Hispania Bakery treats without having to get up at the butt crack of dawn.

Before we got ready to go, one friend insisted on knowing what I was doing next.

Since I didn't yet know for sure myself, I had to throw out some options.

As it turned out, I went for porn.

It wasn't much of a crowd for "Lovelace" at the Criterion, but then not everyone wants to see a film based on the biggest-grossing porn film of all time.

But "Deep Throat" came out in 1972, so I was curious to see how well depicted that era would be.

Judging by the age of the other seven attendees tonight, they might have been wondering the same.

They certainly did a good job with the music, using everything from "Got to Use My Imagination" to "Get Ready" to "Fooled Around and Fell in Love."

And the clothes - the bell bottoms, the cutoffs and Keds, the jumpsuits, even a flowered bathing cap - nailed the '70s look.

Two tickets at a NYC theater to see "Deep Throat" cost six bucks.

Remember $3 movie tickets? Yea, neither do I.

TVs were large wooden consoles and kitchen wallpaper was yellow, orange and avocado green daisies.

The story, needless to say, was tragic, as a young woman was used and abused by a smarmy man with awful facial hair who complimented her shamelessly to win her trust.

And then proceeded to make a buck on her oral sex skills.

What was amazing was how a week-long film shoot defined her for so long - right up until she escaped him and wrote a tell-all book sharing her side of the ordeal.

Foe which she had to take a lie-detector test to satisfy her publisher.

It occurred to me how difficult it might be for a generation of digital natives to fully comprehend how culturally significant it was for a XXX movie to be shown at mainstream movie theaters back in the '70s.

Or how a song like "Spirit in the Sky" could have ever made the Top Ten chart.

Guess you just have to use your imagination, kids.

I have to assume that's what my neighbor was doing when I got home from the movie.

Crossing the street to my house, he waved and called out, "I was telling my friend here, that's my next-door neighbor's car. She always gets out looking so fly...and you do."

Fly? What is this, 1972?

It was right about then I tripped on the curb. So not fly.

Did I mention he has bad facial hair?