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Pearl Oyster Bar
New York, NY |
Sherpa’s Adventurers Restaurant & Bar
Boulder, CO |
THE Blvd
Beverly Hills, CA |
Tezka
Mexico City, Mexico |
Clem and Ursie's Restaurant
Provincetown, MA |
Global 33
New York, NY |
Stubb’s Bar B Q
Austin, TX |
Blue & Gold Tavern
New York, NY |
Golden Boy Pizza
San Francisco, CA |
Robin des Bois
Brooklyn, NY |
Chelsea Commons
New York, NY |
Metropolitan Museum of Art Roof Garden Café
New York, NY |
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 I’d been to Clem and Ursie’s several times before and suggested to my friend Paul that we go again tonight, with the intention of reviewing the locally-renowned seafood restaurant as a place to dump someone. Strategically it’s a great dumping ground as you pay up front and can then leave at any point during the meal – a key quality for a restaurant where you want to dump someone. But this review started heading in another direction when Paul decided to invite Steve, an old friend of Paul’s whose shell he’s been hoping to shuck for some time.
The three of us walked the short distance from the center of Provincetown to Clem and Ursie’s Restaurant, and stood in the queue at the ordering windows which line the back wall of the restaurant. Having known in advance that we’d be confronted with the overwhelming number of options on the menu, encompassing everything from seafood to soul food to barbecue, we brought along a paper copy to study on the way in. I noticed Paul savoring the experience of walking Steve through the menu, as the two literally put their heads together to study the tiny writing that fills up the double sided document.
At the window we placed our order with a friendly Jamaican woman; the staff behind the counter is always Jamaican, while food is delivered to the tables by cute young Russian guys… don’t ask. We leaned in to order many dishes, all the while craning our necks to read the giant menu posted on the wall, looking for last minute additions to the growing list of food we’ve already ordered. I noticed Paul crowding in front of the ordering window with Steve, who either didn’t notice or didn’t seem to mind. After paying at the counter, we took a short stand with a number clenched in its tip and found a booth where we waited for food to arrive.
We had a short wait for our food, during which Paul poured the delicious Australian Shiraz, and initiated an animated discussion about the sexy Russian guy perusing the table numbers, and delivering steaming plates of food throughout the room. The conversation seemed to be stirring up some amount of horniness in Steve, who readily joined in, and was the first to grin sheepishly when the guy finally visited our table.
 Steve’s cup of New England clam chowder ($3.99) was decent but a little thin, not as good as Paul and my cups of chunky lobster bisque ($5.00). This worked out fortuitously for Paul, who spooned most of his bisque into Steve’s mouth. I couldn’t help but notice the number of times their fingers were touching when our orders of fried clam strips ($9.99), fried jumbo shrimp ($10.99), and fried sea scallops ($11.99) arrived. All three were good, though a bit overwhelming and I’d recommend scaling back on the heavy fried orders if you’re planning to fuck someone in the near future. Finger foods, as anyone who reads our Places To Take Someone You Only Want To Fuck reviews knows, make for great foreplay. Paul knows this, which is why it wasn’t long before he was playfully feeding Steve shrimp.
I then realized that Paul had picked out a 2 pound lobster (market price, Paul’s was $22) for the same reason. Delicious and irresistible, and with just enough meat to share, the lobster was cooked just right then cracked to make for easy picking and eating. I had the famous hot lazy lobster roll in butter sauce (market price, mine was $8), and was left to lick my own damn fingers. Steve had the broiled sea scallops ($15.99), which came with tasty brown rice and some uninspiring steamed vegetables.
Steve asked about the bathrooms, and I was initially confused as to why Paul directed him to the generally unused ones in the parking lot, around the side of the building, instead of the indoor ones, which weren’t visible from our table. Paul waited a beat, shot me a crazed half-triumphant, half-I-drank-too-much-Shiraz look, then hurried out after Steve. When they didn’t come back after a while, I headed out into the parking lot where they were just coming out of one of the two bathrooms. I guess Paul managed to score more than just finger food foreplay, because whatever dessert sample he offered Steve was apparently enough to get Steve to go home with him after dinner. Well played, my friend. |
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| chumwater |
| September 12, 2004 |
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