Last weekend flew by. One minute I was at a gallery opening with JP on Friday night and the next thing I knew it was Sunday night. Along the way, I did laundry, yard/garden chores, hit the gym a few times, watched Netflix and attended Bruce’s birthday dinner, which turned into a most interesting event.
Bruce hosted cocktails at his house before dinner at a high-end fish restaurant in the heart of downtown. When I arrived for cocktails, the boyfriend was already there with his long-time friends, a married couple who split time between Atlanta and Los Angeles. CJ was running uncharacteristically late so he met us at the restaurant.
Over dinner, the boyfriend and his friends managed to work their PhDs into the conversation. The husband was giving a lecture the next day on the Russian invasion of Ukraine which included a warning as to why Putin’s replacement may be worse than Putin. The conversation shifted so I never heard his assumptions. The wife, who is now a potter of some acclaim, got trashed at dinner and proceeded to spill the contents of her handbag on the floor in the middle of dinner. She pushed her food around the plate while continuing to drink. At one point I thought she was going to puke so I moved my chair away from her. She didn’t barf but left the table and walked out of the restaurant during the dessert course. The dinner soon ended as the husband ordered an Uber to whisk his wife away. The boyfriend paid for dinner which was a relief as the bill was most certainly close to a grand.
The Corporate Slave 
That dinner sounds like a scene from a movie!
MC54 – Indeed. A Fellini film.
My husband is a nurse. He happens to be near completing doctorates in 2 degrees himself but never discusses that except with fellow students, etc. Nor does he discuss anything health-related unless asked to do so. The pandemic has exhausted interest in that as a general topic of conversation unless someone is trying to get advice on something that affects them or someone in their lives. And then they try to grill him.
He says in his work with patients that the ones who always insist on being addressed as “Dr.” and will correct anyone if they use “Mr.” are PhDs LOL. And almost exclusively males. Women are fine with “Ms.” or may ask that he call them by their first name.
Actual MDs almost never correct a “Mr.” or “Ms.” and will often ask that he call them by their first name. Dentists are the second most insistent on being referred to by “Dr.” followed by podiatrists.
We both find it interesting that many of the ones slinging “Dr.” around couldn’t help save your life if called upon to do so.
Whoops. Husband says OPTOMETRISTS should come after dentists, and that podiatrists in general never make a correction. My fault. Shoes are on my mind while I debate getting 1 pair or 2 for summer LOL.
It’s always funny that way….weekend and especially long weekends seem to go by in an eye blink.
In their defense, thems working on their PHDs often think and talk about nothing else until its over. On the other hand, it’s a terrible death to be talked to death; don’t invite these types out unless they swear not to talk about it.
Spo – all of them were in their 60s. Their PHDs were earned a long time ago.
It’s nice to see people living their best lives.
Ol – or unhappy lives
But did you have fun? And while it’s entertaining to watch a sloppy drunk, it’s also rather cringe worthy at our ages.
JM – it was fun at first but was cringe worthy at the end. And it was a very tasty meal.