Wherein Mr. Whitebread Holds Forth, Alas
Traffic being lighter since the economic downturn in Silicon Valley, The Legend and I headed to the East Bay for the annual party thrown by a Mystery Salon Staffer. This being Berkeley we didn't see any capitalist pigs although there was a roasted pig, well, the rear and the front by the time we saw it, sort of East Coast and West Coast with nothing in between. Heh.
We headed off to Nizza La Bella for dinner. Nizza has become the official Well restaurant so naturally we ran into a couple we knew. The Legend, known for his meat proclivities, had the delicious lambchops. I had the divine Grandmere's Macaroni (yum!), we shared salad, a side of spinach (The Legend's 2nd favorite vegetable after (feh) Brussel Sprouts) with parmesan, currants and pinenuts which even I thought was great and dessert, a chocolate moussa (how it was spelled on the menu, so there) with enough dark chocolate and sugar to keep The Legend awake on the drive home to Silicon Valley.
Our dining experience, however, was dominated by the (98%) monologue of Mr. Whitebread at the table next to us. Mr. Whitebread, apparently a member of the Richmond, CA (a town with a sizeable African American population) city council, held forth loudly at length about the political futures, sex lives, psychological states, IQs, competencies and such of other council members, city staffers and apparently local politicians with whom he comes in contact. Discretion, not being one of his sterling qualities, I was reminded of this Comdex essay written in 1996 by Laura Lemay.
1:11:20 AM 
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