Last weekend was Heather's birthday.
Heather has lots of friends, ranging from straights to gays to boys to girls, and she had events and dinners planned throughout that whole week with various groups of people. She wanted last Friday to be "gay night," however.
I am probably Heather's closest gay friend, and through me, she's met and become friends with my close friends, BOB, Otter, and Brian. Thus, I took it upon myself to set up Heather's "gay birthday night," including location, times, balloons, the cake, etc. For a location, I chose Mi Cocina in West Village, which Heather loves, and which is widely known for being the Dallas gay mecca for hot boys on Friday nights between 7:30 p.m. and 9:30 p.m. when the weather is nice. Even the elusive Megahottie can be found there on occasion.
In addition to being a "scene" for hot guys, Mi Cocina is also a party place, and large groups of bachelorette parties, birthday parties, and other celebrating groups can be found there whooping it up on any given night.
When I first told Otter and BOB about the location, they were thrilled, especially BOB, who thrives on scoping out and picking up good looking boys. Heather was also excited.
However, my friend Brian was less than happy. In fact, he refused to go to the party entirely, and made a promise instead to cook dinner for Heather some other time.
This wasn't the first time that Brian refused to go to "Gay" Cocina - he will not step foot in that restaurant unless under the most dire of circumstances, and I remember back to my birthday in December when Brian came to Mi Cocina and stood in a corner pouting about being there - he'd been visibly miserable throughout the entire celebration, until we all departed and drove over to the Grapevine Bar.
I asked Brian why he hated Mi Cocina so much, and here is how our conversation went:
"I just don't like that place."
"Well, why not?" I asked.
Brian's tone soured. "It's too expensive. It's not fun. I can't hear anyone talk at the table because it's too loud. Everyone is more interested in looking around than talking anyway. It sucks."
"I agree that I wouldn't want to go there every night, but don't you think it's fun to be in the middle of everything once and a while?"
"No."
"I still just don't get it. You won't even go there to celebrate Heather's birthday? She is pumped about going there," I replied, annoyed now.
"I'll grill her a hamburger next week at my house. I just don't like that place. I feel like a bad person after I've been there for more than an hour or so."
"If what you're after is an intimate dinner without seeing other people, why ever go out to eat? Why not just stay home every weekend and grill hamburgers?"
"I could handle that," he said sarcastically.
We agreed to disagree, and I hung up the phone.
Brian is most certainly correct about a few things - when our group patronizes Mi Cocina, BOB, Otter, and myself tend to get caught up in the scene, at least while we're waiting for a table. Our
conversations don't usually get much deeper than the latest gossip about who is messing around with who or who spotted Megahottie, and we're all more interested in looking around than in talking about our work week or politics. Brian is also right about the noise level in the restaurant - unless your table is one of the loud, crazy tables, it's going to be hard to hear that friend of yours sitting two chairs away.
But I disagree with Brian that dinners on the town should always be intimate settings where conversations are deep, thoughtful, and introspective. To me, dinners at restaurants can be intimate affairs or social functions. For an intimate affair, like a date, for example, I prefer to be at a subdued location where my companion and I can engage in meaningful conversations and banter, and truly enjoy each other's company and learn about each other. However, for social functions, like birthdays, bachelor parties, etc, and when I'm out with friends for whom I see 4-5 times a week and have conversations with all the time anyway, I prefer to be at restaurants that feed the festive spirit of its patrons, whether through live music, entertainment, or a lively scene. Sure, we may not discover any new deep revelations about each other at settings like this, but in my opinion, we have the rest of the week to do that . . . and Friday nights are for letting loose and enjoying what the nightlife has to offer.
Then again, maybe I've been in Dallas long enough to fall into the pretentious scene that some gays don't like. Maybe I've grown to love the "scene" so much that I've lost sight of what a fun Friday night should be.
I don't know the answer to this right now, and it's something that I need to think about further.
But I do know that our group, albeit without Brian, had an awesome time last Friday - we gave Heather a stripper pole as a present, as we all feel that Heather has a deep down desire to be an exotic dancer, or perhaps was one in a past life. My boyfriend brought her a huge cookie cake, which we handed out to three different tables after we'd eaten enough. We had a dozen balloons, which we gave out to little kids throughout the night.
Most importantly, we had a great time, despite the fact that we didn't engage in the intimate conversation that could've taken place if we'd gone to a more low-key restaurant.
There aren't any cute guys there like Megahottie (read Urbaninsanity's blog about Sunday Funday), but you will find lots of crazy shit. Just check their calendar of events on the website. It's a Bear Fest.
Club, Submit!, the House of Abduction - you get the picture. 
