I'm not a clubbing kind of gal. So the idea of clubbing in broad daylight -- amid many beautiful young people -- in my bathing suit -- is my personal hell brought to thumping, glistening life.
Spike Mendolsohn, one of the more quirky and enjoyable Top Chef contestants of recent seasons (and the man behind DC's Good Stuff Eatery), changed all that this past Sunday. Simply because he appeared poolside with swim trunks and his trademark hatitude, and served me a delicious burger.
No, it wasn't a wet dream. (Get it? Pool? Wet? Haha! ... what, too much?) I was at Spike'd Sundays at the Capitol Skyline Hotel, a fab DC event that has forever altered my perception of how to act cool and stay cool without losing my cool when surrounded by people much cooler than me.
This is how the event works:
1. You pick your way through the construction debris from the Navy Yard metro.
2. You arrive at the Capitol Skyline Hotel, the outside of which makes you feel like you can only come there if you're having a seedy affair.
3. You go inside to find a very cool mod lobby. You're greeted by an over-solicitous concierge (but only if you're a girl in a bathing suit). He leads you to the ticket booth.
4. You pay $10 for a ticket. This entitles you to pool entry, a free burger, and
5. You stake out a seat on any of the pink Adirondack chairs or the orange leather couches. (Pictures here at DC Disco.)
6. You buy a drink (all $5 and under) to sip while you wait for your burger and people-watch. (The alcohol has the added benefit of
8. You get a sunburn as the DJ pumps up the bass behind you.
9. You die happy.
The best part, though, is seeing Spike work the premises. Sure, it all looks relaxed and chill, but this man is working hard to satisfy his front of house (front of pool?).
For example, Sus and I were in line waiting an abnormally long time for our burgers. All of a sudden Spike appeared behind the grill and asked us what we wanted on our burgers. So we told him, and within moments he had compiled our orders and showed us the care and attention you expect from any good restaurant proprietor.
In fact, he must have cloned himself, because at any given moment you'd see him behind the grill, carrying out an extra sofa, inflating more pool toys, chatting up the pretty ladies, and more. Incredible.
So there you have it -- my brush with reality show-slash-culinary-slash-cool people greatness. And when I need to feel less like a nerd and more like one of the glitterati, you can find me at the Capitol Skyline with a burger in one hand, a sangria in the other, and deep appreciation for the fact I will have at least one "Mommy used to be cool before you were born" story to tell my children.