RL/ralph lauren

date: december 15, 2005
bet: who will spill the beans at the office holiday party?
stakes: lunch
winner: good question
loser: even better question
location: RL/ralph lauren (115 east chicago)
cost: $66



mason: our photographer's name was flynn. she came to my apartment with a box of goods that took the both of us to transport from her auto to my domicile. the goods were photo-related, which wasn't entirely surprising.

i explained our situation to her as we rode up the elevator and into the hallway in which i reside. the reader hadn't given her much direction other than that this photo should be "more playful" than the usual shots that grace the Our Town section of the paper.

in retrospect, i wish the reader had chosen one of the other photos she took. i even dare say that flynn might feel the same way, but the choice was not mine, nor hers. regardless, the reader article is out, and a recap of the office holiday party is upon us. i actually am not sure where to start. but then again, i suppose i already have. with the name of our photographer. remember?



since our initial email interview with the reader, olive was apprehensive. sure, we wanted more people to read the blog, and having an article in the reader is a pretty darn good way to accomplish that, but nevertheless, the questions the author (ryan) was asking us and the direction he was heading from the very start made olive question our aspirations, or at least the vehicles we would use to achieve them. and, also in retrospect, we should have known this would be the case, and hence were not surprised when the article ran and one of the first words we saw was "frisson".

that aside and regardless of that, on the day of the holiday party olive and i woke with a start. the work day seemed like much more of a formality than it usually was, mostly because it was serving as a much more defined purgatory than it usually did. olive (and her mom) had been dangling some sort of "secret weapon" in my online face that didn't quite manage to phase me, but did eliminate my ability to enter this bet with utter and complete confidence.

we left the office after most. there was a 4:30 dismissal to allow for traveling and primping, both of which olive and i opted to pass on. instead we met at the elevators at about 5:15 wearing the clothes we had packed specifically for the party, along with a weather-inspired outer layer that all but masked what would eventually be revealed upon molting at the party venue.

olive: please, mason. i most certainly took time to primp, which mostly involved applying the secret weapon; an obscene amount of black eye makeup that, in the past, has proven irresistible to one mason bentley.

mason: we walked in the sideways snow to a bar a half-block from said venue and took a couple seats at the bar. we ordered the same number of drinks and made predictions about the night.

at about 6pm, which was when our free drinking at the party venue officially took flight, i was on three drinks, and olive on one point five.

upon arriving, our coworkers were few. in fact, the few were made up of each and every male in our office (with the exception of our boss, who was traveling and thus unable to attend the holiday party). we thought nothing of walking in together, but should have known better, for we would eventually be made, and not in the MTV-sense.

by the time everyone in the office was present and also quite accounted for, olive and i were more than our fair share in with regard to beverages. we also had not said a single word to each other since the moment we entered the venue, most likely for fear that we would forget ourselves. after all, there was a lunch at stake (a very expensive lunch to boot, mr. guy with hat riding on horse with instrument to hit ball).

olive: so by now, everyone at the party was good and liquored. i was chatting with a co-worker, who is also a close friend -- a friend who i would have liked to spill the beans to on so many occasions, but never did. our conversation took a drastic turn (and i'm pretty sure i knew where it was going) when she uttered the words, "so, i have a question, and it might be inappropriate, but i have to ask." (gulp) "how long have you and mason been dating?"

i can't remember my exact response. i was pondering denial, but it soon became clear that the jig was up. i asked how she knew, and she said that pretty much everyone in the office had suspected it, but no one had confirmation. (gulp gulp)

this co-worker/friend of mine and i dashed away to the other end of the venue to dish; she, of course, looking for details and i looking to determine who has known what and for how long. apparently, there had been enough random sightings of us together that co-workers began to speculate in the autumn months. but since we've been up to no good since may, at least the joke wasn't entirely on us (ha ha, suckers!).

anyway, it didn't take long before the highly coveted confirmation had circulated through the entire office party. surely, i would have won the bet under different circumstances, but with the cat out of the bag and no one to be crowned loser, we had earned a one-way ticket to dutch-town, and by dutch-town i mean ralph lauren restaurant.

mason: so i'm not sure how many of you know this, but you have to make a reservation at least a couple weeks in advance for lunch at this place. i actually think you have to do the same when buying their clothes these days as well, but i can't be sure because i stopped wearing that shit right around the time i noticed that the douchebag-to-non-douchebag ratio among polo shirt wearers was alarmingly swayed in the way of the douche, at least at the high school i attended (and yes, i'm talking to you, mr. douchebag with hat riding on horse with instrument to hit ball).

because this bet was in the works for quite some time, we had the foresight to make a reservation for the thursday following the holiday party. we arrived at 12:30 and were seated promptly. i was addressed as either sir or mr. bentley, which i loved because i finally got to say "oh please, call me mason. my father is mr. bentley (wry laugh)."

i ordered the lobster bisque to start, and it was amazing. it was served alongside a basket filled with three kinds of bread, all of which were great in their own right. for the headlining act, it was the kentucky hot brown sandwich, which was comprised of roasted turkey, nueske ham, cheddar cheese sauce and bacon. this item was very strange looking (cross between open faced and woops i just dropped your sandwich down the stairs and threw it back on your plate without looking) and it was somewhat difficult to eat, but it sure did taste good. the pickle/fry sideshow was one i'd see again in a second, and my water glass was refilled with the promptness of an asshole college professor who takes attendance at the beginning of each class.

olive: i ordered the tomato bisque to start, and i'd estimate that it was the best tomato bisque i've ever had (though i haven't had many). for the entree, i requested the RL burger, cooked "medium-plus" per the recommendation of the waitress. i had never heard the term before, but i'm not really in the habit of ordering food that requires specifications of doneness.

the patty was served in tower formation: challah bun, tomato, lettuce, red onions, white cheddar, glob of meat (which appeared more medium-rare than medium-plus, but again, i'm an amateur when it comes to beef). note: tower formations present consumption challenges.

anyway, i probably haven't had beef since the burger i ordered during our visit to lucky strike, and thus my little tummy is unskilled at housing beef-type guests. it took about two bites before i felt full and my stomach ached for most of the day thereafter. despite this setback, the fries, bread, soup and coke (of the glass bottled variety) were very tasty. the service was excellent and rather speedy, making this a good lunchtime destination, provided you have a reservation. i also enjoyed observing the groups of well-to-do lunching ladies and business types - what a scene. next visit, i will avoid the beef and order one of the 30 other appetizing items on the menu.

mason: poor olive's stomach. what it lacks in ruggedness, though, it makes up for in taste.

overall, RL was pretty darn good, but also pretty darn expensive. i dare say that although we both thoroughly enjoyed the experience, i doubt either of us will return any time soon (probably not until olive is forty-something and out with her lady friends for some lunch-hour wine-drinking to break up the monotony of a day of shopping or when i'm fifty-something entertaining some asshole client who's treating the waitstaff the same way he treats his wife and kids, who hate him by the way).

so not only is the cat out of the bag, but he's licking up the spilled beans from the floor (he's in for it later). olive and i are now faced with an entirely new set of challenges regarding our relationship in the context of the workplace we share, such as what our coworkers think we might have been doing as we exit the elevator together, or what they must think when we both arrive late to work wearing the same clothes we wore the day before.

thus begins a new chapter in olive&masondom, but know this: the betting will continue (in fact, the next bet has already been made and someone has already lost) as will the lunching. we would be remiss to discontinue our accounts of working together as a pair just because instead of a secret couple we're now an outed couple. who knows, things could get even more interesting...