Summer '09: White Wine, Banjos, and Sleeping in the Buff

The Pink Door has large black canvas shades to keep the sun out of your eyes, but said shades don't keep the heat out. All evening we were patting our temple with our cloth napkin like a 19th-century lawyer.

Our waiter, who looked a little like Joel McHale, assumed correctly that we'd be choosing white wine. "I can't imagine who'd want to drink red when it's this warm," he added--though he lowered his voice at the end when he realized a couple nearby had picked a red wine. They weren't making much progress.

We had the Alaskan halibut, which has just started appearing at fish markets, and it was one tasty slab of fish. Its whiteness somehow made it taste cooler--still, we continued patting our temples. If we'd had suspenders, we would've loosened them.

Upon arriving home we decided to extend the "steamy Southern evenings" theme by sitting on our porch and idly strumming our banjo. Our roommate came home and noted that earlier in the evening she'd met a banjo player, which was a first for her. "We all come out when it's hot," we told her. The banjo does seem to go along with warm weather, though we're unable to identify an analogous cold weather instrument. Suggestions? (The piano comes to mind--gathering around it to sing seems to us like a uniquely cold weather event.)

Once we'd exhausted our banjo repertoire of approximately four songs, we prepared for bed. Our clothing for the evening consisted of a single sleeveless t-shirt, which we didn't wear so much as soak in ice cold water and drape onto our chest. This kept us cold enough for the ten or so minutes it took to fall asleep. All in all, a successful evening (unless you had to hear our banjo playing).

Tonight will be even warmer, and could be record-breaking. Seattle has never had an evening when the temperature didn't at least drop into the 60s--but KOMO tells us that we may stay in the 70s tonight.