With the closing of Eleventh comes the end of some memories for me.
One night a few drinks lowered my inhibitions enough to photo bomb to smithereens the memories of two college friends reuniting. Feeling guilty about inserting myself into every one of their pictures made me contrite. I leaned over and talked to the friends to find out their story...but I never once apologized for being so rude. No way. You've got to expect that kind of crap at 2am on a Sunday morning.
There was the time I really want to forget when people walked in on me while I was midstream in the bathroom. If I wanted to be walked into a bathroom, I could've just stayed home to use my own bathroom with a broken lock. Heck, I've got kids constantly walking in on me.
Several people told me about the amazing food there, but I only tried their sweet potato fries and deep fried jalepeno peppers. Their sweet potato fries will be missed.
I loved their awesome red lounge with billowing drapes hanging from rods made of pipes. I wish I had snagged one of those chandeliers that dripped with beads. Hanging in my house, one of those would add that over-the-top girliness that screams a lady is the head of this house. Of course I also loved the couches due to their cool styles and fabrics. However, I never sat in any of them since I was terrified of whatever was lingering from previous occupants.
Eleventh was the place my friends and I would start the evening before going to birthday party downtown or end the evening at. It would be after 1am and we knew that we could squeeze in another drink and dance before calling it a night.
