Friday night, to "celebrate" the end of my jury duty, Dennis and I went to the early happy hour at Phillip's Bar.
(which has a much nicer website than I imagined,btw)
Ordinarily Phillips is a Tulane hangout, decidedly preppy. On Friday nights, however, for a few hours it's a gay bar. The gays invade for a few hours, still decidedly preppy.
Come 9 pm, like Cinderella, the magic ends.
I've been there once, with him (But let's not relive that.)
While there, I had a mango martini (ok, but a bit fruity, in every way) and bacon. Instead of nuts, there was thick fried bacon on the bar, arranged like flowers in tumblers.
That, in fact, was more of a lure than the cheap drinks.
While there, across the sea of madras, I spotted the friend of a friend's friend, the (only actually) nice boy met by Michael and me on the on the night of drunken lawyers
He was wearing the exact same pink lacoste polo. Is that the only shirt he owns?
He did look awfully cute in it, however.
Is it wrong that I kind of want one (not pink however)?
When I was 13 I owned a few...in various colors (never pink, however).
I was on the cutting edge of preppydom then. Now, not so much. Who knew I'd live long enough to see a return.
I'm not sure, but there seems to be something not quite right in wearing something one wore at 13, no matter what it is, but I do like the idea of one.