University Club, Washington, D.C.

Oh, the shame! Last night we were asked to leave Washington's exclusive, private University Club.

Why? Because Svet was wearing blue jeans.

I suspect also that since we'd been there nearly two hours without complaint that he came to management's attention because he kept wandering around our private dining room (visible to the main club rooms through windows) with his surgically-attached PDA/phone to his ear, and the Club has a strict no-cell-phone rule (there are signs everywhere). So, no matter how wonderful I looked or how well-dressed our investors with whom we'd been meeting, the Club just could not abide a cell phone user in blue jeans. I'm so embarrassed now I shan't be able to show my face at the Club for the rest of the month.

I've not written a "review" of the food at the University Club before; I don't know that yesterday's visit will be much help. None of us were eating and we just drank coffee (the espresso machine wasn't cranked up yet) and bottled Italian mineral water. The other guys smoked cigars. Svet, however, ordered a cheeseburger and French fries, all washed down with a big glass of tomato juice. I was too busy talking to think to sample his food or even discuss it with him. When it arrived, I recall seeing a good sized bun with an unusually thick hamburger patty that was around a full inch thick; the rest of the plate was mounded with thick, golden French fries. The next thing I knew, the waiter was taking away the empty plate. We'll have to assume that the burger was good, since Svet is rather a particular eater and wouldn't have finished it were it not suitably adequate. I don't mean to damn the food with faint praise, it's just that I wasn't eating or paying attention to the food yesterday (not to mention I'm still being vegetarian for Lent).

Otherwise, our abruptly truncated meeting went well, and I think we were just about done anyway when we were ejected.

I wonder if Svet is going to wear blue jeans today?