Fox's on a Monday Night

 So when Allison is here, we typically UberEat in dinner, but yesterday I was feeling a bit au courant, and so made some dinner reservations. She and Wifey did some fine work finishing the living room ahead of TDay, and I told them to be ready by 6.

We climbed into the man sized Caddy SUV, and headed to Fox's in South Miami. Ah, Fox's -- the place I had my first ever martini, in 1984.

Of course, I made Wifey and Allison listen to the tale for maybe the 10th time. My mentor and friend Ed Perse had asked me for a ride home, as his Benz was in the shop, and as we approached Fox's, had me turn in, to "get a couple of martinis THIS fucking big," he said as he held his hands a foot apart.

I had been to Fox's, but had only drunk beer, or grain alcohol punch, or maybe a Kahlua and cream. I was NOT a sophisticated drinker at all -- my family didn't drink, and, well, in college it was all beer and grain alcohol punch.

We sat at the bar, still back then smoke filled, and he asked if I was a gin or vodka man. I wasn't either, but followed his lead with a vodka martini, and that was it. It's been my drink going on 40 years now.

Anyway, my friendly bartender Mark was there - he works at Fox's and Captain's Tavern, and Allison loved meeting him. Indeed he set us up with a couple of vodka martinis, while the Designated Driver, Wifey, had her usual water with a LOT of lemon.

We had great sandwiches -- French Dip, steak, and a Reuben, and shared onion rings and a wedge salad. Mark yelled from the bar "Two more, Dave?" and I told him he had read our minds. He said it was part of a bartender's job.

So we ate, and drank, and laughed -- a lot. We would LOVE to find a good guy for Allison, but it's tougher and tougher to do these days. Guys our age seem to want women in their 40s to 50s, and Allison finds the idea of dating late 70s guys less than exciting. Still -- a friend up in Jupiter has someone she wants her to meet -- and she's going up there in a few weeks. Who knows? Maybe he's be a love connection.

Age is actually ok, Allison says, as long as he's rich with a really, really bad cough. Ah -- she always cracks us up.

Wifey drove us home, and I headed to bed to watch some MNF, but fell asleep at half time.

Tonight yet another dinner -- our friend Joelle's birthday, and we're headed to the gas station. Really. The top tapas place in Miami is located behind a gas station on SW 17th Avenue and S Dixie. We've been several times -- you pick your wine from a shelf, they open is, and you order small plates. You feel like you're in Barcelona instead of the border of the Grove and Roads 'hoods in Miami.

Maybe tomorrow I need to fast, ahead of T Day, although my trainer Jonathan told me this am he takes the opposite approach -- he eats a LOT T Day week to prepare his gut for the onslaught.

Of course, he's 29 and very fit. Rules are different for him.

Meanwhile, the best time of the year is upon us: T Day, D1's birthday, and now the Little Man's birthday a week before Wifey's. Oh year -- Chanukah, too, and then New Year's Eve and Day, followed by D2's birthday the Day the Music Died.

Fox's set the mood nicely, last night.