UN-MARK YOUR CALENDARS
Actually, that's not quite true. Keep your calendars marked -- the When the Stars Come Out book party will still be held on Thursday, September 14 -- but cross out the location, because it won't be at Bamboo 52.

And did you notice that I didn't embed a link when mentioning Bamboo 52? Good. I also won't be linking to its sister bar -- Posh -- anymore, either. This pains me, because those bars were my second homes. But I didn't start this.

As you may recall, over one month ago I scheduled the book party with a manager and confirmed, a few days later, with the owner. You would think we covered our bases, right? I mean, the boyfriend and I were planning the menu with the owner... we were working with our favorite employees so that they'd be scheduled for that night... what could possibly go wrong?

Well, imagine my surprise when another manager (a useless tool we'll call The Twerp) got in my face on Friday night, telling me I shouldn't tell people I was having a party there because the space was booked by someone else!

So now, with the party a short three weeks away, I am scrambling for a new location. And I'm more than a little pissed at Bamboo 52 (and therefore, by association, Posh.) Since changing the date is not an option (I have people flying in) I will have to pray that we can find another venue that can accommodate 100-150 people. (Uh... that's a rough estimate, of course. Since no RSVP is necessary, that's the best I can do.)

Somehow, we'll figure it out. But this should not be happening.

As for Posh, I'm afraid it has to suffer the collateral damage. I can't see how I can justify moving the party over there. If I am subject to the totally unnecessary work of changing all my plans and tracking down every person I've invited since early July to tell them that the location has changed, the owner of both Bamboo 52 and Posh should not continue to reap the same financial benefit. Sorry, Owner, but you get no reward for causing me this major, major headache.

And to think... I never even mentioned the terrible case of food poisoning I most likely got from the sushi at Bamboo 52. See what I get for being a nice guy?

UPDATE: A clarification (also posted as a new entry... just making sure I cover all the bases, given some confusion out there.) I just want to make it clear that I'm not screaming boycott. Cutting off my nose to spite my face is not my common practice. This may somewhat change the way I feel about my favorite watering holes, but it doesn't mean we have to proceed directly to divorce.