Mercy and the Flying Saucer

My sister Chloe had her birthday last Sunday, on the 15th. I asked her how she wanted to celebrate it, and she said dinner but didn't get back to me before the day. Then last week she e-mailed Jenny and I and some of our other girl friends to have a girl's night out.

Jenny responded and recommended a wine bar/restaurant called Mercy, and the rest of us agreed, so Chloe made a reservation for last night at 6:45. We were all late, but Jenny and I and our friend Lynne by only five minutes.

Mercy's not bad. The waiter paid just the right amount of attention, he recommended good stuff, and they let us sit before all the party arrived. It's in a big complex of a bunch of other restaurants in North Dallas, just over the border of the semi-wet and wet counties. Thus, close to the liquor stores on Beltline and the Dallas North Tollway.

I had a French Canadian beer called Fin du Monde. Very nice, with a sweet taste and without the bitter aftertaste of one of my other beers of choice, Shiner Bock. The pork chop with apricot glaze didn't have much flavor, but the bruschetta appetizer did, and my sisters loved the Tuna Tartar. Don't order the lackluster cheesecake if you ever go, but the Pannacotta instead. It more than completed my meal, even though I only had the bit left after Jenny ate what she wanted.

We thought we'd check out a bar for a bit, so we walked to this one around the corner from Mercy. It was crowded and smoky and the people stared rudely, like we'd tried to crash their party. We got in the car and headed across the street to the Flying Saucer, a more comfortable pub without the meat market vibe.

They had a band, so Chloe paid the cover and we went in to discover no free tables. The Flying Saucer has a couple of couches in a back room called the O' Love, and the rest of the furniture consists of long picnic tables and benches. We had three choices. Sit with a couple, two girls or two boys. We picked the table with two boys, naturally, and then stood while someone worked up the nerve to ask the boys if we could sit.

It ended up being me, the least likely to ask strangers for a favor. Turns out the two boys didn't mind, and had come to the bar to kill some time. They chatted with us amiably, though the youngest of us had ten years on them. Twenty-three year old boys, out for a night and beset by six over-thirties. All of us look pretty damn good and Lynne bought them two rounds so it might not have traumatized them.

All in all a successful night, no one threw up and no one got arrested, though being old we did go home before midnight.