Something exceedingly rare occurred on Saturday from about 12-6p. I’m not altogether certain what led to the decision to take it on– it could have been some urgency to welcome the real spring and summer transition;  it could have been a little bit of isolation lately. It could have been the invisible push of curiosity which manifests itself in all kinds of chaotic, joyful, terrifying and unexpectedly wondrous ways.

There’s a good chance it was that last part.

I wasn’t even particularly anxious about it during the week, though I probably should have been, even after all of the invitations were sent out. I just sort of let it happen– a mass email to about 30 friends, two main groups, the lion dancers and some others. I didn’t invite my usual friends, actually, which just sort of happened. There were some Indians, some Greeks, a couple whiteys, and maybe 3/4 Asian, some kids. Unexpectedly, the RSVPs starting flooding in, and…

It Was On.

Friday after work I began preparing, and by the time The Thing kicked off, I somehow had everything in place.

The Thing?

BBQ.

The place?

My place.

Why?

Because I’m a crazy person?

Probably.

Friday after work I went straight to my favorite supermarket and bought 4 racks of ribs, 10 lbs of wings, 5 lbs of 80/20 burgers (80% beef, 20% pork). I looked online for directions for making marinades and bought all the ingredients for a massive, awesome batch. Some spicy, some tangy, some sweet. I bought 3 large rolls of heavy duty tin foil for making mushroom medleys. I bought 10 6-packs of specialty beers, 5 bottles of wine. I bought potatoes and 3 large, whole fish, heads on. And for $7.99 I had it delivered home later on Friday night and I was freakin’ waiting and ready to go nuts.

I have a decent patio in the back of my building. Out there, there’s a nice stone wall separating our space from the building on the opposite side and I have a grill out there that’s mine, and another that belongs to the building. Given the amount of people and food expected, I decided to buy 3 more grills. At $10/piece you can’t go wrong, and I bet you can’t find them for that price anywhere else in the city.

But we’ll save the set up part for a moment. Friday night, after unpacking the boxes of supplies, was more or less like this:

 

 

Of course there were things besides meats to prepare as well, barely. 

 

I followed the instructions pretty well, listening to some podcasts and having a beer, my first in about two months. At some point, probably around 11p, I switched to coffee. Everything was ready to store overnight by about 1:30a. I put everything in nice foil containers and covered them, and altogether it made my fridge look like a professional cooling unit. Stacks and stacks of uniform foil boxes, each full of stuff, ready to be unplugged and deposited on grills the next day. Organized like a motherfucker.

Nervous about time the next morning, I decided to get all the grills sorted out in the wee hours– they needed to be assembled– that’s what you get for $10. It’s virtually DIY.  By 2:30a, I was ready to crash in preparation for the big morning ahead.

There’s something intense about doing something like this completely alone. You have to try thinking of all possible things that could go wrong, and you end up inventing a process for yourself that can’t be critiqued by anyone, so you need to review your strategy repeatedly. Strangely, it wasn’t stressful. With some coffee on hand and plenty of hours ahead, I actually sort of enjoyed getting everything ready. I had complete control over the whole shebang, and it was intense and comfortable being in the zone of flow.

I started early the next morning. The patio was bare because all the furniture was still inside for winter storage, so I had to move the usual tables and patio furniture out first. It was a good workout and after a couple runs, despite it being in the 40s, I was sweating and removing layers and my arms were burning.

After getting everything out there, I realized for the first time that it all looked very bare. I had no plans for color or table clothes or anything like that, and it was clearly a mistake. I made a note to myself to hit the dollar store when it opened, probably around 10a. In the meantime I moved all the grills out and got a sense of how things could optimally be arranged.

I made it to the dollar store and chose some pink table cloths. Don’t ask me why, it just happened that way.

After putting one on one of the tables, I realized something was still missing, everything was going to be too bare, still.  So I went straight back out to the florist and bought six bunches of flowers. Dumbly and riskily, I got some that matched the table cloths. So, here’s how things started shaping up. You can see the four grills in a line, there.

Put a few more flowers out, and I was really liking how the line of grills was coming together as a center piece of the layout. It was at this point I realized I was actually going to pull the whole thing off.

This is the last pre-party picture, and actually one of the last pictures. From this point on I had too much to do and forgot to do much documentation, save for a few snaps here and there. Yes, I am aware it looks like a wedding reception or something– I didn’t know what I was doing. So, cheesy, yes. But it was better than it could have been, and actually I think it came together pretty well.

After about 2/3 of the total RSVPers arrived, I had an idea to go up to my neighbor’s balcony and grab a picture, and that’s what you see here (below). There were about 6 more attendees who trickled in as they finished their other obligations that fateful Saturday, and we absolutely maxed out around 4p.

 

At around 6p, everything was gone. I mean *everything*. Somehow all of the beers, all of the food, all of the snacks… everything.

Which was perfect.

I mean, perfect. People were buzzed, a few visibly drunken and happy. People were rubbing their bellies, and stuffed. By 7p talk began about where to move the party to, and who was going where that night.

By 8p there were only 10 people left and they all came up to my place for some tunes and hit the Jack Daniels I usually provide on jam nights.

By 9p the people who stayed were ready for a nap– that’s 8 straight hours of eating and drinking.

By 10p it was just me and couple of the girls and we had an incredible threesome.

NOPE.

(Like that would ever happen.)

It was me and couple of the girls, and I walked them down to Broadway to catch a cab home as they were both pretty sloshed.

By 11p I was ready to crash.

By 12a I took my smokey clothes off and threw them in a heap on the floor, and, relishing the quiet, I drank some water, rinsed quickly off, and slid into bed. I was asleep in seconds, belly full, brain full, yet somehow also empty of all things.

I spent Sunday cleaning everything up alone, and it was nice. I replayed some of the conversations and jokes and events of the BBQ as I washed dishes, did the recycling, and packed the grills for storage. My living room smelled like beautiful, sweet campfire from my clothes on the floor, and I decided to hold off on washing them for one more day.

I wish my place could smell like that all the time.

And by Sunday night it was all history. Back to normal. And here I am at the office, Monday morning, looking out my window…

…wearing jeans that smell like smoke, and it’s good.

Have a great week.

PS. I won the fight on Friday afternoon in the second round by TKO due to strikes. It wasn’t even close.