Bar & Restaurant Reviews

If you are looking for easy, Chelsea Commons is the little known spot: kind've dive-y, with an average bar menu...and from a distance, looks like a chump pub. But with its small, cozy tables, roaring fireplace (October through March), and really cute garden (May through October), this place is untapped ore.

One rainy and cold night, I drag a flirt friend (Definition: two people who enjoy the friend status, but also satisfying levels of flirting and sexual tension) to Chelsea Commons, to dry out, warm up, and get a few drinks. I order the fish and chips, ($11) she has the steak tidbits ($8). We were starving and cold. Both seem well above average for pub fare.

The jukebox grinds from Al Green to Patsy Cline, to Billie Holliday, to Elvis Costello, over to Norah Jones, back to Nina Simone. Behind the jukebox, close to the window, is a curious fountain made of brass instruments. Through the dim firelight, the fountain looks like a small dancing man.

Under normal circumstances, all friendship barriers would be intact- safe distance, limited touching, open, but tame conversation. (Talking about sex is tame, as long it's about other people.) But we are wet and cold, and get a small table right next to the fireplace. We inadvertently begin to cuddle, if only for the advantage of shared warmth: she smells so good. After two rounds of Merlot, we are in dangerous territory, with our lips just inches apart, I begin to notice the length of her lashes, the way her mouth pushes words out on to my neck. Her nails begin to stroke my forearm, and we silently have no need for a third glass of wine.

The check arrives quickly.

mr. cArBon

April 22, 2002

What's that smell? See what's dangling in the Tree of Despondency.

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