I got taken out to dinner by some reps last night, in thanks for shouldering a burden for them on Wednesday. It was also a chance to debrief on some product developments. Last time they were in town, I dragged them to my favorite sake bar, which was a disaster, since there is more of a “meat and potato” feel to this group. This time, we opted for BBQ.

I’ve read good things about Daisy May’s, and was not dissapointed. Thier sweet tea was totally awesome, and I think the best thing about them is that they are across the street from Landmark Tavern one of my preferred scotch locations in the city, After getting our food, who was inside the seating area watching ESPN? Oliver Platt. He was there with a kid – probably in his early teens? Maybe a son? Maybe a g/f’s kid? I dunno. He was dressed all in white, and got immidiately nervous when we came in (there was nobody else there). I made eye contact, and he kinda gave this look like “please don’t ruin my dinner”.

I didn’t. The two people I was having dinner with woulda been total gawkers, maybe even asked for autographs. I didn’t mention Platt to them until he was on his way out the door. IMDB tells me he has done lots of stuff, but I will always remember him as “that guy” from Flatliners, my favorite Porthios, and his role in Bicentennial Man.

It was kinda a New York thing – it made me smile on the inside. After some fantastic dry-rub pork ribs (BTW, , the beef ribs here there are insane), I walked the reps across the street, and had them buy me scotch. I was good about it though, I coulda really broken the bank, and instead I opted for smooth, but not bank-breaking (especially since we had spent 30 minutes talking about economics, bleh).

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