Last night, after work, I met Toby Joe at one of our favorite wine bars in Brooklyn called D.O.C.. Keith, (Toby’s coworker), and Gerry joined us. D.O.C. has some of the best cheeses I have ever inserted into my face. And their sandwiches look delightful, though, considering the diet and all, I haven’t had one. Instead, I order the goods (cheese) sans the bread. Last night, we ordered a cold-cut/cheese and veggie platter, a cheese and mushroom and pasta fondue of sorts, and a plate of real Parmesan cheese—the kind that makes your face hurt. We sipped on white wine from Italy and conversed.
D.O.C. has a dark, wooden interior. One might even be convinced that they are dining at someone’s personal estate while vats and vats of aging wine lie in a cellar below. And if you’re facing the interior of the restaurant, with your back to the street, you can convince yourself there are vines crawling up the windows acting as natural curtains that unveil the rolling hills of an Italian countryside. There is a candle on every table. And they help ease the atmosphere. Shadows flicker on every wall, casting the outlines to human hands and the reflections of wine glasses.
I could sit there for hours. And I have. It combines four of my favorite things: wine, cheese, candlelight, and conversation. From what I have been told, D.O.C has aided in getting a many a men laid, too; first date or not, the boys are bound to score. Ladies cannot refuse a man after sipping fine wine by candlelight.
Candlelight.
Last night, considering I’m generally a sure thing for Toby Joe, it was all about the conversation and not so much the wooing. Two bottles into the evening, the waiter came over to fill our glasses with the remainder of the second bottle and to ask if we wanted anything else. Gerry brought up the fact that we were still waiting on one more dish, but otherwise, we were OK. The waiter, not catching the last bit of what he said bent down a little closer to hear him. Behind him there was a candle.
Ooooo, that’s a bit hot.
Gerry realized what he was referring to immediately.
Yeah, there’s a candle there. Are you OK?
Yes, I’m fine. I’ll get the other dish.
The waiter turned to leave. And that’s when we saw the flames. Our waiter’s ass was on fire.
Gerry leapt up from his chair. Both Keith and I stopped talking as if the tape making up our words had suddenly run out. I’m not sure what Toby Joe was doing. Gerry began to say something.
I’m not trying to get fresh with you but…
… And that’s when Gerry began slapping the man on the ass repeatedly.
And we all stared in open-mouthed shock.
After the initial shock wore off, I snorted like a wild boar every time the guy walked by. While that’s unbelievably rude – I am aware – it became a reflex. I simply could not control myself. And to think, later that night, he went home and told a girlfriend or a wife, “I lit myself on fire tonight and this table of four laughed at me.”
I’m still laughing at him and his new half-shirt. I will laugh at this for years if not forever. This is as funny as that time Toby Joe was on Pixar’s a Bug’s Life in Walt Disney World and one of the little mechanical termites moved back and forth over his sphincter on the seat below and his entire body went rigid. But that’s a story for another rainy day indeed.
When he said “wow, that’s hot” I joked, “You aren’t on fire, right?”
He turned and I barked “Oh shit – you are!”
And I laughed. I couldn’t help it.
Gerry is a good and kind soul. I have to say setting my ass on fire in public is on the top of my list of things to do before I shuffle off.
This story made my day. Thankyou!
If I didn’t have witnesses, I’d say my mind made the whole scenario up. I’m not sure what was weirder, witnessing him flaming or seeing Gerry spank him repeatedly. So funny.
Just from reading what happened I’m laughing everytime I think about it. Can’t imagine actually seeing this in person.
Great entry title by the way. I had NO idea what kind of story to expect.
I still haven’t been to D.O.C. The getting laid thing certainly sounds good.
The address makes it look like its between berry and wythe on the north side, but isn’t that where that weird N7th Medical building with the big lofts on top is?
There’s a new-ish tapas place on the corner of metropolitan and berry that i’ve been meaning to try—have either of you been there?
Gerry: “It’s okay, Sir. I’m an architect!”
I’ve accidentally set fire to the cloth that a champagne bottle was wrapped in (and calmly put it out, amazing myself at my cool-headedness in the face of open flames), but putting out a flaming waiter is a sight I have yet to see.
haha @ sarah. Only change that to: “It’s okay, Sir. I’m a licensed architect!”
Closet, I’d have laughed at that, too. I hope you would have forgiven me. :]
Jon – no, but we LOVE tapas.
I think it would have been better if gerry had humped the fire out.
Wearing a gauze tunic just doesn’t work in a tiny place with tons of open flames. Firemen don’t do that shit, and neither should waitrons!
Gauze tunics, candlelight, Italian wine and flaming waiters… what kind of a bar is this exactly ???
the menu is here: http://zipizape.vivenuevayork.com/
According to citysearch, “Happy hour is from 5pm to 8pm daily and features two-for-one sangrias, beer and specialty cocktails from an already reasonably priced drink menu.”
Those Spanimation characters freak me out.
Ages ago in my dorm room, my roommate lit a cigarette and caught her head on fire in the process. The funny part was me beating her on the head in my bra and underwear. The damage was not so bad, but the smell was awful.
hot
Sadly, that happen to me once, too. My bangs were destroyed. I looked so weird after that.
Those characters are a bit eerie.
I never lit my hair or my ass on fire. I feel so out of place right now.
I once singed my goatee and eyebrows when, after a taco shell caught fire in my toaster oven, I got the bright idea of trying to blow it out (sending flames out door and into my face in the process). brilliant!
I’m sorry, but that’s even funnier than what happen last night. Oh, to have seen that, sweet calvo.
toby joe, i guess i should have consulted you before i embarked on my life saving tactics. next time i’ll know that you would prefer the hump over the spank. funny how that glass of wine was not leaving your fingers, flames and all. one good thing from all of this is that the hair on my palms has now been removed, if only temporarily so.
the funniest part was that I had no idea it happened until after the fact….when I wondered what the crispy little balls in my goatee were.
I’d have forgiven you. The table next to us teased us the rest of the night, calling us pyromaniacs.
Thank you, Thank you, Thank you !!!
I haven’t laughed this hard in ages.