Eat Out More Often

(ha ha ha...never mind.)

This weekend saw visits to local eating establishments and drinking holes. And it got me to thinking. Going out to eat has to be the worst value for your money of practically anything you can do. Beers with your homies? 12 bucks, minimum, if everyone buys pitchers. Going out for dinner at a reasonably nice place? 15 bucks + tax and tip, minimum, if you only have one drink with dinner. Lunch at a dive Mexican joint? 7-something bucks a person. Meanwhile, we had a lamb steak dinner with good bottle of Cotes du Rhone and salad at home for something like 11 bucks in materials last night...

BUT: you still have to do it. Going out is fun. There's some kind of ineffable thing to spending time with your S.O. or your friends (or both) in a public place with waiters and bartenders and food service cards. The trick is to go on recon missions and find reliable places that don't suck for the money. Since we were so ass-broke for the first four months in Santa Cruz, we never had the chance to do that; now we try to make up for lost time.

My conclusion is this: never, never eat at the Mexican place across the street from the big arcade down by the boardwalk in Santa Cruz. It's bad like clinical depression. And if you're going out for upscale greasy bar food, go to The Crow's Nest, not Seabright Brewery (although I did appreciate that their menus have a day-by-day countdown of how long it is until Bush is out of office.)

Also, Becky and I have been together for 7 years and 2 days. Neat, huh?

Also, today starts the Marx seminar. By the time you wake up tomorrow, the worker's paradise will have come to pass. (And I'll be swinging from a gibbet, obviously.)