11 05 pm pdt [ nobu, at last ]
Charles
rescued me from having to bear witness to my father's gin night with
various lascivious old men who I've known since I was in the cradle.
In the course of our customary brainstorming on where
to have dinner, he suggested Nobu in Malibu (which you would know about
extensively if you read his journal). After months of hearing about it, I
finally got to experience it.
The drive there was surprisingly swift (he timed it!)
and the restaurant was empty
enough for us to find copious room to eat at the bar. Charles introduced
me to the bartender Justin (and later to the head chef Gregorious). He
then dealt with a flurry of waitresses who squealed to compliment him on
his new hair cut. Charles tried to hide his blush behind his hand and
then shrugged and exclaimed, "I let my hair grow for six months and this
is what I get for $10 at Super Cuts." Did he mention that he got his hair
cut while drunk and survived?
The next few hours were a blur of absurdly good food
and comped premium
saké. I chatted up both Justin and Gregorious.
Charles said I could debut his new hair cut to the
world. I realized it was our first picture together...
Bartender Justin scrutinized the photo. At first I
thought he might just be fascinated with the digital camera, but then he
frowned and stated, "I don't know about Chuck's smile," so we posed again
for picture two, which turned out perfect.
