We had one of those dinners last night that could have been a disaster. We were meeting the best man from our wedding (Ben’s old roommate and friend from high school) and his partner at a restaurant we’ve never been to before. I’ve seen Best Man about half a dozen times and neither of us has seen him in years. And we’ve never met Partner. It had the potential to be one of those stiff occasions full of reminiscing because no one has anything in common anymore. And I didn’t know whether the food was going to be any good.
Oh, the food. If you get the chance, try Kafe 421 in Dinkytown. Small but diverse menu, and everything is good. We think it’s run by the same woman our old roommate insisted on using for catering events–with good reason. Mmm, strawberry crisp.
There wasn’t much reminiscing, just a couple of stories about the people we knew in common so Partner had some context while we were bringing Best Man up to date. We compared experiences buying rental property and having to hire an exterminator and renovate an entire room immediately on closing. We also talked about politics, religion, conspiracy theories, grad school and quantum physics–all those things you don’t bring up in polite conversation.
But who wants polite? Polite isn’t how you make friends. Dinners like last night? Now that’s how you make friends.