Worldly Early Birds

Birthdays were never meant to be confined to a day.

So nearly a week after Moire's actual natal anniversary, we met up to celebrate girlfriend-style.

I suggested The Roosevelt, checking to inquire if it was too far for her.

"Pshaw," she scoffed. "I am worldly!"

Since she's barely a month back from Paris, I thought Kir Royales seemed appropriate, celebratory and continental, combining Virginia Fizz with French Cassis in a lemon-rubbed flute for a beautiful pink toast to my long-time friend.

The kind of close friend who will turn to me mid-admission, like she did tonight, and say, "Let me ask you something no one else will."

And I will answer her honestly.

I was happy to hear that my recommendation of Aziza's for her birthday dinner had panned out magnificently.

Whenever we start one of our debriefing happy hours, she always insists I give her my highlights first before she'll allow me to inquire about her goings-on.

After giving her the abridged version, I got her to give me her best.

There was the one about the fish trapped in her koi pond and the hilarious tale of its rescue which nearly involved her face-planting in the pond.

Then there were the glasses she enthusiastically ordered (her husband was dubious and not a little mocking of her order, but she kept her eyes on the prize), seduced by their colorful bottoms and more than a little enticed by the fact that the glasses carried her name.

Except that they really didn't (just cheesy marketing) and the colored bottoms washed off the first time she put them in the dishwasher.

Disappointed and disgusted with the now-gray glasses, she was forced to admit to her husband that she didn't even like the glasses.

You have to understand, this is a woman so innately funny that she's part of a VCU comedy night next month.

At one point, she looked at her now-empty glass, glanced at my half-full one and demanded to know, "How did that happen? Get on that!"

Don't you just know I did as I was told?

And like me, she's an enthusiastic eater, so we soon turned to the "Early bird gets this..." menu and ordered three of the four dishes.

Butter bean hummus on grilled flatbread with thinly-sliced radishes and cukes was divine, the epitome of summer with all its fresh veggie tastes.

I do love me some butterbeans.

Fried green tomatoes came piled high with shrimp salad, showcasing two more warm-weather favorites, with the added bonus of a crispy-fried crust.

Calabash oysters (the birthday girl loves her fried oysters) sat on remoulade with slaw atop them for our birthday dinner closer.

By then the guy sitting next to Moire had joined in our conversation ("You two sound like you're having fun"), recognizing me from when we met at Dutch & Co.'s bar a few months back.

Small, smaller, smallest, this town is.

He was talking about the benefits of taking your employees out to lunch (he likes to take them to Bistro Bobette) to increase workplace production.

Happily-fed workers are devoted workers, he said.

We got in a great discussion with him about print versus online, a subject near and dear to his IT business heart, although we were on opposing sides of the issue.

When I inquired what he was doing after dinner, he said he'd be practicing his banjo.

Explaining that a banjo is tuned to G major, or as he humorously put it, "God's chord," we heard about how much better his banjo-playing has gotten lately.

He said he's determined to become more than proficient and you have to admire someone willing to leave a bar and two fine conversationalists for the sake of practicing.

But then, some people just know when it's time to get on that.