Just when I had decided it was really tough to eat right when you go out on the town with a hot babe, this weekend I learned it's even harder when hanging out with the fellas.
Although it's not super macho to go out with a young lady and stay on a diet, I've discovered if you tell them you want to eat right, they'll gladly follow your lead. Eating with the boys isn't so easy.
Friday night, I found myself at one of the more fun bars in Los Angeles, a Burbank beer bar called Tony's Darts Away.
Besides having a wide variety of delicious craft beers, many types of sausages and a terrific vibe, Tony's also has a huge selection of board games, which the local ladies seem to love. One table was playing Hungry Hungry Hippos alongside another engrossed in Yahtzee next to another playing Clue.
My problem was I didn't have a clue what to order. I already had an IPA being sent over to the table, but all I saw on the food menu Friday at 10 p.m. with my two male co-workers were sausage, fries and onion rings. I figured the chicken sausage was a better choice over the beef sausage, and even though the fries were made of sweet potatoes, they were coated with a honey sauce that limited my intake to three fries.
I had no onion rings. And only one beer. Since I had only eaten a salad all day, I figured I was OK with the world.
The bar was really fun, but how on Earth is a man supposed to get rid of a spare tire in such a place? So, around midnight, I called it a day.
Saturday, I got to the gym around 7 p.m. and was startled to hear that they closed at 8. A 45-minute workout was better than none, and on the way out, I headed to Zankou Chicken; I had been advised not to eat the delicious skin of the rotisserie chicken, to take it easy on the trademark garlic paste and to try not to gulp down all the hummus.
While in line, a beautiful young lady texted me that her original wild plans had been canceled. I texted back, "Ate yet?" When she said she hadn't, I got out of that restaurant and made a beeline back to my pad, where I had arranged to meet her.
After reading this week in the
about the obsessed L.A. blogger who visited a Little Armenian
, when the babe suggested the very same place, I gladly concurred.
Unfortunately, I was still flying blind and made a mistake. When I saw Three Flavor Sea Bass on the menu, I didn't realize it was an extra-large fish -- and it was fried. Yes, it also happened to be incredibly delicious, but still. My dinner companion didn't help my waistline much. She ordered fried spring rolls and the spiciest fried rice I'd ever had.
But because I had only eaten peanuts for lunch, I figured I was OK with the world. So I also ordered chicken satay.
No beer. No wine. One Diet Coke.
The young lady loved the meal. I did too. Only problem was the night was still young.
Since we were in East Hollywood, I told her of three bars we could poke our heads into: the Good Luck, 4100 or Ye Rustic Inn. The Rustic turned out to be a great choice. The jukebox played good tunes, the patrons were in good spirits, and a booth emptied right as we got our shots of Jameson and light beers.
They don't call it a beer belly for nothing.
Sunday, I had Grape Nuts Flakes for breakfast, low-fat Italian wedding soup for lunch, and then I went to the gym because I wanted to dig into that Zankou Chicken afterward. After an hour of stationary bike and free weights, I was finally enjoying the chicken breast I had so yearned for.
And as I write, I am snacking on pistachios.
Surprisingly (perhaps only to me) I didn't lose any weight this week. But the good news is, I didn't gain any either.
The sad lesson is, these wonderful people are horrible for my diets.
Guess I'll have to cut them out.
165.5 pounds. 5 pounds lost so far.