I hate pretentiousness

And, no, I'm not talking about the election. But, if I was, I'd tell you to make sure you VOTE TOMORROW. And, I'd like to tell you who to vote FOR, but I guess that's your choice. Meh.

I am talking about paying damn good money for sub-par food, though.

Saturday night was a surprise 40th birthday party for my nephew (how I have a nephew older than me can be blamed right on FM) held at a restaurant here in town called Bistro Bella Vita.

They have a reputation for good food and better martini's. I did not join in the martini fun, knowing I had to drive home, but did consume a couple draft beers. And food that was no good.

This place is filled with posh looking couples and groups of people clinking martini and wine glasses and looking like they stepped out of magazine pages. Ocassionally I would see someone eating. More of a place to be seen on a Saturday night than anything. I must say, it's been more than eight years since I've been there, and I do remember the food being AT LEAST EDIBLE.

When I break down and shell out triple digits (or FM does) for dinner, I do expect it to be FAN-FREAKING-TASTIC. Especially triple digits in Grand Rapids, Michigan.

If I had been served FM's Boeuf Bourguignonne, it would have went straight back to the kitchen. It was SO SALTY. I declared it inedible, but being we had waited over an hour and a half for it to arrive, FM just quietly gobbled it down and waited for his ankles to swell.

I had the Skate, which is a very light and delicate ray fish which the cook (chef? dare I call him that?) had used about three times too much oil to prepare.

And our Greek Salad appetizer? Since when are there no peppers in a Greek salad. And why the fennel? Not that fennel is bad, it just does not belong in my Greek Salad. Which, by the way, neither does SPINACH.

Whatever. At least you could eat it.

Woke up in the night with a very upset stomach.

In other news, our 1995 Taurus finally lost it's transmission enroute to one of the more exquisite golf courses around town. Whilst being followed by our financial advisor driving his brand new BMW.

Thank God he was there.

And Mike got SENIOR RATES at the course. Saved us $10, but made him feel a little sad, I think. Yes, we are golfing in November in Michigan. Going again tomorrow, as it promises to be 70 degrees Fahrenheit.

The junk yard gave us enough money for the car to cover our golf on Friday or our dinner on Saturday. But not both.

Sigh.