Nic realized he had taken the Glamping theme too far; not because of the china, or the menu, or the tablecloth, but when he realized that the bread was served in its own sleeping bag.
After a 3 course meal, dessert and coffee, Mark ordered another martini waiting for DAMONE to show up with his wallet…
Nic’s was short-lived—as was the entire alternate universe of Pottersville—but the martinis were splendidly dirty, and they didn’t suffer any characters givin’ the place “atmosphere.”
Ted swayed in his seat, obviously the worse for wear, swigged down another martini and declared, “Nic’s Poolside is a fucking dump, let’s get out of here”, followed by the splash of he and his chair, and subsequently the coroner, discovering that the poolside in the name was quite literally literal.
It wasn’t my first drink at Nic’s, nor would it be my last, but the night of the poolside lingerie show was the only time I cursed the romantic, candlelit atmosphere.
Nic literally had “the big C.”
Nic had “the big C,” but not the really bad kind.
One dry martini had been requested and served that would begin her party for one, where she was the guest of honor.
Martinis and toast, this is what they call breakfast in this town where the only thing faster than the women is the cars.
Now on his seventeenth martini, it was vaguely dawning on Rob that the bread wasn’t his entree, he should order.
As much as I loved gazing into her cerulean eyes, I kept looking down at the precariously placed candle – warming her martini and threatening to set her napkin ablaze – such is love I guess.
Hey….SPEED DATING isn’t so bad!! Another MARTINI ….PLEASE!!!!!!
When she was younger she would fret about what to order on a first date, fearing garlic breath or spinach teeth, now she’s just worried about being able to read the menu.
The presentation was flawless, the candle was elegant, the setting romantic – but the other chair was empty, as it had been every day at this time for the last 23 months.
Comments are closed.