Dining with Bruce Willis

So a couple nights ago my Aunt and Uncle treated me and Gus to dinner at P.J. Clarke's, one of three recent installments of the 125-year-old original, a favorite of Sinatra's--who apparently once exclaimed "Those urinals! You could stand Abe Beame in one of them and have room to spare." I assume he liked the food too.

The spacious, "saloon-style" restaurant was packed with a paradox of beautiful people and huge burgers. The jukebox heightened the atmosphere with hits from the Beatles and the Traveling Willbury's. The service was fast and the food was good, though definitely on the pricey end. In other words, perfect when you have generous family members picking up the tab.

But I didn't start this post to write a restaurant review. I'm writing because I simply can't contain my lingering star struck anxiety of seeing BRUCE WILLIS.

That's right, this guy:


Bruce Willis walked in about 7 minutes after we sat down. He was seated TWO SEATS away from me (unfortunately, on the same side I was sitting, so I couldn't stare at him during my meal).

For those of you who know me and my inability to contain myself upon seeing B-list, sometimes D-list celebs (i.e. Clay Aiken, Mario Lopez, and Randy from the Real World), this was huge. But I DID control myself and, despite making a phone call and sweating through my clothes, managed to appease my excitement with a few side-long glances. I suppose Bruce made it easier to not make a scene. He was very unassuming--dare I say, he looked quite average--in his baseball cap, t-shirt, and the poker-face expression he wore on his otherwise hairless head. I don't think he laughed or joked once during his meal. He was out to dinner with a guy who looks like he would be associated with the stars--some dude with long frizzy hair and sunglasses, who I did notice picked up the tab. Gus thought it may have been his manager. Anyway, no autographs or pictures ensued. But my memory of Bruce is strong enough to remain without those.

As a side note, Gus ordered his first non-vegetarian restaurant meal in 8 years: a turkey club. I was beaming with bewildered pride when I heard him tell the waiter, though the words "I'll have the free-range turkey club" didn't sound quite as bold as I imagined following my uncle's deadpan order: "Cheeseburger."

Listen up! For all of you beer pong lovers...

New York Magazine, always on their game, reported that the State Liquor Authority may or may not "send seismic ripples across the Murray Hill drinking scene" with their "declaratory ruling" about beer pong in bars:

We’re on pins and needles, folks, because during its last full board meeting, the State Liquor Authority made a declaratory ruling about one of the most important issues of our time: beer pong. A declaratory ruling, in case you’re not familiar with the ins and outs of the SLA, is when an elected official or a business owner asks the Authority to clarify its position on a certain matter. Apparently someone wasn’t sure about the legality of throwing Ping-Pong balls into crappy beer, and so the SLA will soon release a statement clarifying the conditions under which it can or cannot occur in a bar (it has previously fined establishments when gambling or unlimited drinks were involved).

One night at Hook and Ladder or Whiskey River and you'll realize the grave implications such a ruling can have: Ivy League fratboys that dominate these establishments take their drinking games almost as seriously as themselves. I've actually seen my friends challenged to a game of beer pong by a finger-pointing Ivy Leager (he made sure to inform us) in a baby blue polo and khakis yelling "FUUCK YOUUUUUUUUU!" True story.

On a semi but mostly unrelated note, how did I not know this? And more importantly, what purpose does it serve?

Attention Attention! For those of you who haven't heard the monumental news yet: Gus has joined the dark side...carnivorism. Alas, after eight years of veggie protein links (a.k.a. "hotdogs"), tofurky, and boca burgers, Gus tasted a former living animal in the form of a barbeque-slathered chicken wing dipped in blue cheese. (Actually, I'm not so sure he actually tasted the meat, but in the very least he experienced the texture.)

Why did he do it? Well, why does Gus do anything? His affair with vegetarianism started as a self-imposed challenge to see simply whether he could do it. After finding it easy to abstain from meat, poultry, and seafood for a couple of weeks, Gus chose to stick with it for the next eight years despite constant derision and mockery by friends and family.

Is this what led to his final breakdown, the lack of a "support group," as he once described it to me, which is apparently a strong factor as to whether or not vegetarians stay the course. Well, that may have had something to do with it. (But just for the record, I've become quite adept at [willingly] incorporating soy meat into our meals...I make a mean veggieblt.)

No, what it really comes down to is the chicken wing. He just wanted one. And though food manufacturers do incredible things now days with soy and vegetables to mimic the real thing, nothing really comes close to an authentic chicken wing.

So what does this mean for us? Well, his color has improved.

Before:
After:







Just kidding! No, nothing as drastic as this news may suggest. Since the infamous date, Gus's non-vegetarian inventory-to-date consists of 1 bite of a turkey sandwich, 3 scoops crab dip. We'll still be sticking with the soy stuff for the most part--there are so many compelling reasons to abstain from meat, after all. But it's nice to know that we can indulge in a chicken wing once every blue moon.