Sometimes I like to follow and the Femme Fatale had been itching for awhile to take the lead, so she planned an evening last of places I've never been and probably never would have found out about on my own. We began the evening at the tiny, funky Red Poppy Art House to hear harpist Gillian Grassie. The performance was to start at 7, so I thought "how long can one possibly play the harp?" and figured we'd be out of there around 8 and then on to dinner at a place also of the Femme's choosing.
At eight o'clock Grassie announced it was time for a break. Break? Horrors. I was ready to eat. The Femme however, was not. Nor did I hear anyone else grumbling about this, so I just went outside and talked to a couple of young women who were English majors at Berkeley who were enamored of Grassi so far. Then it began again, and though Grassie is an interesting and entertaining, anecdote-spewing performer, skilled on her instrument, a two and a half hour performance of music played on a harp proved a bit much for an unfed me. I was grateful when it was over, though it certainly wasn't an unpleasant performance- just a very, very long one.
Afterward, we went for German food at Schmidt's, which was excellent even though they were out of pretzels, there were a couple of large, way too-loud groups, and the waiter totally messed up not only on our drink order but spilled food on my jacket. Still, it was one of those great nights of weird little pleasures in our fabulous City. Check all of this places and people out, though know that the pics on the Red Poppy site are, um, a bit different than the reality.