On the Verge

I'm either on the verge of success or total disaster. Last weekend to numb the uncertainty, my friends and I went to Ten-01 for happy hour and then to a shallow movie to numb the brain.

I loved Ten-01's happy hour. I had the chorizo burger, with an an egg on top. It was small enough that the flavor perfectly sated any anxiety hunger I had. It was spicy and mellowed out by the yolk of the perfectly cooked egg on the perfectly baked bread. The andouille sausage and grilled bread were solemn companions, taking the job of flavor very seriously. Bites of the macaroni and cheese with short ribs and the truffled fries were delightful. Perfect comfort food in small enough doses that it doesn't break the bank and large enough that it fills your stomach to coma level, should you order more than one dish. Nice combo!

Oh and I forgot. The bartender rocks. I asked for the bartender to surprise me with a great drink (non-alcoholic as that's how I roll) and he made me and a few of my friends the pinkest, frothiest, tastiest drinks with little flowers on top. Something with pomegranate and citrus and sparkle and something very delicious. So shout out to you, bartender man. We even had another patron stop by our table and ask what we were drinking because it looked so good.

I waddled to the movie theater after that and sat through He's Just Not That Into You. While the drunk girls behind us made it slightly more entertaining, the movie echoed the sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes accurate reality that women are psycho and men are jackasses. Both of which I have personal experience with. I'm not going any further than that.