F.A.T.

Fridays About Town:

The above photo was taken in my new favorite upper east side dive bar, Marty O'Brien's. I was slightly fearful walking in-- I was the only female and the only person under 40-- but left feeling like a million bucks. Not only did they let us watch the swimming Olympic Trials in Omaha, Neb., with the volume up, but they served us free sausages, hot dogs and burgers off the grill in the backyard. It was like we were family.

So what's a girl to do now with no Olympics and no Democratic National Convention hoopla? Look towards the RNC in Minneapolis and hope to see Marat Safin up very close and personal in Flushing? I guess so.

If none of those sound compelling, check out this Labor Day weekend's goings on:

For Those West Coasters, Skip Fast Food
Who Knew? Drink Up New York
Gimme Some Absinthe, Gemma
El Bano: Where X Is for X-clusivity
Would You Like Some Grits With Your Worms?
Can Italians Do BBQ? Mama Mia
Somebody Make Them Go Away, Please
Get to McCarren Pool for Sonic Youth
Pucker Up, Wine Week's Coming
Labor Day's a Great Reason to Hit the UWS
I'll Be Seeing You Here Next Friday
Because These Just Look Sick

I'm headed to New Jersey to visit my dad's family tonight and I'll be offline for a couple of days. Unfortunately, I'm working Monday so it'll be a normal weekend for me. We love convention madness around here. Last night I got a phone call from home, mid-festivities at The Frying Pan (staring at my monitor I still feel like I'm rocking on the upper level of the old boat).

"Hi M-, it's Dad!"

"Hi Dad," I screamed, slurping down my vodka soda and making everyone in my party yell, "HEY DAD!" into the phone.

Gauging that it probably wasn't the best time to be conversing, my dad, half- laughing and half-speaking, informed me, "I'll pick you up tomorrow after work. Uncle T- says bring your water-skiing gear!"

Sweeter words were never shouted on one of summer's final Thursdays.