The thing about Atlanta

After all these months, I still have no clear idea about where I want to live when I grow up. But I do know one thing. Even though I don’t really see myself living here, there’s just something about Atlanta. There’s something about all the places I’ve been going for years, and all the places that have been here for years that I’m just now discovering. But more than anything, the thing about Atlanta is that it has all these faces that I adore. Like this one:

 

That’s Molly. Molly the college/Chicago roommate. Twiggy’s mom. Tremendous interior designer and photographer. Also pretty good with a flat iron. If you’re into that sort of thing.

Molly and I had a little Atlanta adventure this weekend. Franz took us.

THIS is Franz. I force my friends to name things that they have no interest in naming.

Franz is a terribly posh car. He has a button on the door that automatically raises or lowers my headrest, and yet still the headrest is too tall for me. Because apparently if you can afford to drive a Mercedes, you are also tall.

Unaccommodating headrest notwithstanding, Franz did at least deliver us to the Midtown Promenade. We went there to see Blue Valentine at the Midtown Art Cinema, but when we drove up, I saw The Highlander – and I’m not even embarrassed to tell you this – I squealed and clapped my hands. See, because the fact is I am infatuated with Food TV, and I saw this restaurant on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives a couple of weeks ago. Mostly I was fascinated because here was this bar in Atlanta that I’ve never even heard of serving supposedly fantastic food . Molly was, as always, agreeable. And we were both aware that we were about to watch what might be the most miserable movie of all time, so a beer (or two) beforehand seemed like a good idea.

The beer was a good idea. The Food-TV-touted pasta-wrapped mozzarella sticks? Not so much. The people were fantastic, though, and so was the art. I’d definitely give it a second shot. I kind of wish I lived two blocks away.

After the movie, which was in fact a treasure trove of torture and misery (but amazing, truly), we spent a good long while raising our spirits at Richards Variety Store:

Richards Variety Store is a treasure trove of an entirely different kind. See that cockroach raft? Where elese are you going to find one of those?

With a quick trip next door to Trader Joe’s, we amassed the necessaries for the rest of the evening – wine, black truffle pizza, gorgonzola crackers – and I left wondering, just a tiny bit, if Atlanta actually might be a place I could live one day.

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