brought to you by the letter B

My Saturday started out lazy. I took my time getting myself together and went to meet the ever so talented Esteme in the park. I was running later than I thought I was so I decided to take a cab.

INSTANT KARMA: The driver saw me, but also saw the two guys half a block closer hailing him too. He paused in front of them for a moment before deciding to pick me up instead. They looked like they were late, and obviously very pissed at what had just happened. I yelled down the street, "Where are you going?" Turns out that they were going to the exact same place I was going, Rittenhouse Square, so I told them to hop in. They insisted on paying for the cab, and on the ride there they gave me some recommendations for good restaurants in the city (B.Y.O.B. places, in their opinion, always have better food). Bonus.

The weather was beautiful, like Philly decided to skip over spring and went right to summer. We chilled out for a bit and then headed over to a BBQ at the Special Situations Corporation (Est. 1962). I met a whole bunch of interesting characters there, including this dude:
I couldn't figure out why he was so familiar until he mentioned that he knew my sister. Strangely enough I recognized him from j9's flickr pics. Crazy visual memory.

I was stuffed with plate after plate of food and one drink after the next--burgers, beer, ribs, fresh fresh veggies, rosemary potatoes, and some delish ginger infused cocktails. Then we headed over to Bob and Barbara's for a special before we decided to do a bit of booty shakin over at Barbary.
As Esteme would say, I was in the streets. When I got home my feet were filthy, total proof of a full day/night of urban trekking in open-toed shoes. My hair held onto the scent of the smoky grill and a couple of bars. Despite that, I sleepily slipped into the sheets thinking that everything was just right. It was all the way a summer Saturday should be.