Another evening out: PIG

I just returned from the Plum Island Grille, which luckily is a 5-minute drive from here. You know that island people (the non-tony ones) called it PIG, right? There's a funny story related to this - and here it is:

I was recently talking to a woman who works at a local establishment. She was telling me that one of the owners of PIG came into the establishment before the business opened and told her what the name was going to be, and asked her what she thought.

"Great!" she said. "We can call it PIG."

He was not happy with this revelation. She didn't say which owner it was. But we had a good chuckle over it.

Anyway, I went to PIG to meet Triple-D, who has requested that I remind everyone that the nickname stands for "Deep-Dish Diva" (because in a previous post I was talking about a debate about pizza and she was saying she preferred the deep-dish variety).

Apparently people have taken it to mean something else. I would not be that rude. I've got rather huge tracts of ... land ... myself, so I'm sensitive to this stuff. Minds out of the gutter, readers.

I drank two drinks, had some (mediocre) fried calamari and left her there, chatting up some dude. I needed to barf, or lie down, or both. Bleeccch.

She wanted me to chat up the dude's friend and tried to push me into it by insisting that I talk to him about this company GREENPUPPY.ORG, which is all about planting trees to compensate for one's carbon footprint. The dude's friend, it turns out, is in the lumber business.

She had earlier introduced me to the proprietor of Greenpuppy.org. She meant well, but I'm not good at chatting men up.

Don't know why I drink. Don't know why anyone drinks.