I had a meeting this morning–4 VP’s and me, the new kid.  We talked about workflows and technical stuff and what we’re going to pitch this afternoon.

After the meeting, I went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.  One of them came in behind me and said very quietly “You’re very good at that…”  and gave me a cryptic look.

“At making coffee?” I asked, and then poured the milk.

“No, at meetings.  You made all the right suggestions, you kept your focus on the messages we wanted to convey, and you made it all seem like their idea.  You’re very good.”

I laughed and said, “I’m a lady.”

He laughed as he put the milk back in the refridgerator and said, “That you are, but rest assured, you have a gift.”

Okay so maybe every date does not include bacon…but maybe it should.  My girlfriend and I had a delightful date of bacon last night and it went a little something like this:

Step one: I stopped by the Whole Foods on the way home from work & bought 1 lb of thick-cut country bacon.  YUM!

Step two: I brought home the bacon and fried it up in the pan — Peggy Lee styles.

Step three: Prepare the different flavors of bacon:

• Vanilla ~ chopped bacon in vanilla ice cream (the low-carb variety works just as well)
• Chocolate ~ dip your strips in dark chocolate, let them cool and dry. TO DIE FOR
• Orange glaze ~ one part orange juice, one part sugar, cook & reduce, cover the strips–De-lish
• PEANUT ~ cook one piece extra crispy & dip it in peanut butter, tres decadent
• Maple ~ dip one in maple syrup for old times’ sake.  Your senses will thank you.
• Old Fashioned ~ leave one plain, salty, supple, and warm.  Enjoy.

Blind-fold your lady and ask her to describe each delicacy.  Ask her to use emotional, visceral descriptors.  Let the evening take you where it may

Happy Eating, Butches.

B.Cassidy

1.  Raine’s Law Room –Named for “Raine’s Law” which allowed only Saloons to serve alcohol on Sundays (meaning any place with at least 5 rooms for rent); this 1920′s style speakeasy really takes this genre of establishment to the next level.  Secretive, sexy, and really smart; this is an experience that will make any savvy New York gal swoon.  Have a drink and hit the town–there are great restaurants nearby.  Or on those beautiful evenings you never want to end, cap things off with a vintage cocktail and talk til dawn.  So romantic.  Take a look at the wallpaper while you’re there.  Tres chic, Les Frique.

2. The Campbell Apartment — Named for the tycoon who once held his office here (John W. Campbell, father of modern science fiction); the Campbell apartment is a not-so-secret spot somewhat hidden within the walls of New York’s iconic Grand Central Terminal.  On off-hours (non-travel time), one could sit all day with a chess board or even a lap-top and do all ones thinking, writing, and drinking.  Enjoy the spirits that haunt this space, the ones that dance upon the tongue and upon the periphery of one’s consciousness are at home in this very same space.  Drink it all in.

3. The Frying Pan Only in New York, only in the summer, this outdoor bar/grille sits out on the Hudson like a secret pier party.  Whether you choose to fry yourself and your own precious skin on its upper decks, or you sit below and celebrate through sunset, this low-key non-scene is an amazing way to unwind with friends at the end of a long day where you’ve been cooped up in an over-air-conditioned office.  Grab a game of scrabble and head down to Chelsea.  Cross over the West Side Highway and take a deep breath.  You’re off the grid and off the clock.  Drink up and enjoy.

Cheers dears,

E.I.B.

Step 1: Zest one lemon.  (Use a cheese-grater if you don’t have a micro-plane, but zest that bad-boy bald.)

Step 2: Crack 4 eggs and beat thoroughly with 1/2 cup ricotta cheese and 1/4 cup of fat-free half-and-half, sprinkle some salt & pep in there while you’re at it.

Step 3: Add 2 heaping Tablespoons of Splenda and 1/2 the lemon zest to the egg-mixture.  Beat thoroughly.

Step 4:  Cut another 2.5 TBS of Splenda and the remaining lemon zest into 4 TBS of butter.  Set aside for topping.

Pour egg mixture in a thin layer over a well-greased (preferably with butter), small frying pan.  When thin pancake starts to bubble, tilt pan until entire mixture is solid, then flip.  Repeat until egg mixture is gone (should yield 4-6 pancakes).  Put a dollop of lemon-butter atop your stack of pancakes and drop a few fresh blueberries onto the stack.  Garnish with a sprig of mint and serve with Iced Green Tea.  A delicious way to start off any summer day.

Cheers,

E.I.B.

Yesterday my girlfriend and I played hookie.  She had “oral surgery” and I had “uncontrollable diarrhea.” Whatever the excuse, I highly advise taking some time to yourself—either with a lady friend or a great friend who is a lady.  There’s something romantic and conspiratorial about taking the day to lay low and do all the things that you can’t quite fit into a weekend.  If you’re in a big city, take the day to be a tourist; if you’re in New York, feel free to follow this blue-print.  Save some moves for a surprise, fill your date in on as much or as little as you like, but this was our perfect day—adlib as needed:

10:30am Wake up slowly. (Kiss your girlfriend.)

11am  Lemon Ricotta egg-pancakes with fresh blueberries. (Recipe to follow.)

12noon Row boats in Central Park (72^nd Street @ The Boathouse)

1:15pm Sailboats at the pond in Central Park (Just down the path)

2pm Lunch at Alice’s Tea Cup (The experience is extraordinary, as is the tea!)

3pm Dylan’s Candy Bar (Treat yourself to sweets!)

3:45pm Bloomingdale’s (Maybe the morning put you in the mood for boat shoes?)

5pm Le Colonial, (Cocktails upstairs will transport you.)

6pm Cartier, (The dreams are for free.)

7pm The Supple Spa, (Couple’s massage—trust me, at this point, you’ll need it.)

8:30pm Dinner at Gascogne (Quiet and romantic, ask to sit in the garden.)

10pm—Shower by candlelight. (There are no words.)

12pm—Fall asleep knowing you’ve enjoyed this day to it’s fullest. (Kiss your girlfriend again for good measure.)

And even if your sweetheart disappears in the night, or catches some early flight for a long business trip where she’ll now have to fake a toothache, the joy you’ve squeezed out of this one day should last you the duration of her absence.

All the happiness in the world to each of you.

Cheers,

E.I.B.

Too Bad Christmas is over, this would be on my wish-list.

Stauer is a company that does remakes of historical time pieces. This 1930′s speedster is sleek, definitive design–perfect for the NB who makes bold statements with subtle choices. (And at $99, it’s a steel steal!)

Not sure how to ask a lady to dinner and a smootch this weekend? Try a little help from Nancy Wilson, she seems to have it down…

So here’s the story.  On our second morning cohabitating, I woke up to a shrill screech from the woman I love.  I checked the clock:  6:00 am.  We didn’t oversleep, our door is not ajar, and the windows are still shut.  What could be wrong? Still a bit groggy, I blinked and sat up as my darling girlfriend fled from the room.  “Babe?  Everything alright?”

She returned a moment later looking disheveled and upset, carrying a large bath-towel.  “I peed.”  She mumbled.

“Huh?” I replied.  I glanced down at her side of the bed to see a giant wet-stain on our bright white sheets.

“I peed the bed.” She said in a voice far younger than she.  “I had a dream I was peeing, and I woke up in the middle of it…peeing.  I’m so sorry.” 

I waited a minute to see if my high school gym teacher was going to pop out of the closet screaming at me to run laps, or if my mother was going to be on TV cooking a pot-roast or if there were any other obvious signs I could be dreaming.  None.  So I rubbed my eyes and sat up a little straighter.  I glanced down at the puddle again and then at the clock: 6:02.  “Give me the towel.” I said, yawning. She did so while covering her eyes.  I laid the towel over the puddle and held out my hand.   “Come here. Lay down.  Go back to sleep.  Sleep will help. Sleep helps everything.”  When she got back into bed, I pulled her close to me and kissed her neck softly.  Then I made sweet love to my lady because I needed her to know I still found her sexy, no amount of bedwetting could do that…well, at least not this 4 cup wonder on her side of the mattress.

When 8am rolled around, we got up, stripped the bed and dropped off our laundry on the way to work.  No harm, no foul, no worries.

Still, when I returned home that evening, my lady was wallowing in a new puddle–one of shame.  She was still too embarrassed to look at me, and found reasons to keep moving from room to room the moment she got in the door until I finally got in her way.  “Baby, what’s wrong?” I asked, standing in the doorway to her study.  “You still upset about this morning?”

“I’m just so embarrassed.” She said, hanging her head.  “That’s never happened to me.  I’m so sorry.”

“Honey, please. It’s no big deal.  These things happen.”  I took her hands in mine and tried not to smile. 

Finally, she looked me in the eye. “No, they really don’t.”

Breaking into a giggle, I relented.  “No, I guess they really don’t.” She covered her face again and laughed as I pulled her into a hug.  “Don’t worry hotstuff…It happens to the best of us.”

“No! No it doesn’t!” She yelled, laughing harder.

 ”Come on,” I said.  “Would it make you feel better if I wet my pants?”

 ”Yeah, actually.”  She picked her head up and smiled at me. 

“Ok,” I said shrugging my shoulders.  And then I did.

We laughed for a good ten minutes straight as I wandered around our new apartment, soiled from the waist down.

And that, dear butches, is the most spontaneous thing, the most uncomfortable thing, but ultimately, the most romantic thing I have ever done.

The femmenextdoor has been known to make an adorable printed itinerary:

*She’s also been known to hop-stop a date prior to taking her lady out to ensure a smooth transition from point-to-point (how very NB of her)!

But the point here is to be prepared.  Instead of arriving at your lady’s door (see part 2: The Pick-up), with the tacky & exhausting phrase: “What do you want to do?” –which will inevitably be returned with an “I don’t know; what do you want to do?” Show up with a plan in hand, or at least in mind.  Print out the movie schedule and slide it in your wallet.  Make multiple reservations if you’re feeling unsure.  At the very least, show up with options.

If you know your date well, choose activities she’ll enjoy.  If it’s a new situation, options are probably best.  Having a plan shows that you’ve put thought into the date.  Having options shows your consideration for her various tastes.  But remember: Having a good time is always the key to a great date.  Put the plans in place so you can relax and enjoy yourself.  Scrambling to come up with something on the fly is likely to make you more nervous than necessary. 

Dating should not resemble Guerilla warfare.  It should be as smooth as an American Fox Trot.  So grab your fox and trot away Butches!

Pick your lady up.  First and foremost, it sends her the message that your time is hers, that there is nothing on your plate, on your mind, on your clock that is more important than she is.  Escorting your lady to the cab, to your car, or even placing her delicately on the handlebars of your Schwinn shows that you’re concerned with your precious cargo, and that you’re the most qualified to transport it–because you care most.  Drive the extra half-hour out of the way to pick her up.  If Enterprise can do it, free of charge, so can you. **Added bonus: you get to take her home.

If  you’re stuck in a meeting, flying in from Milan, or trapped at a family engagement and picking her up means more time in transit and less time engaged, send a car.  Nothing makes a lady feel more like a princess than having a professional chariot await her and carry her swiftly to her destination–you. 

At the very least, ensure she has accurate directions to your date-spot.  Draw her a cute treasure map.  Send her the link to Hopstop. Or make an overly-detailed list of directions from her exact location or one you both know well.  These things show that you’re looking out for your lover, that you’ve taken away all her cause for worry.  The NB strives for smooth sailing, cycling, or driving.  So whether you’re motoring around or traveling by train, take care of the details–the devil may be in them, it’s your job to exercise him before you step out.

Happy trails Butches!