I’m a VIP. I could be strutting with my thumbs tucked under starched labels and with a wave of a hand commanding free drinks for the house.
But I’m not. Because I’m a VIP only at the Varsity Grill. Oh. So never mind.
The Varsity Grill and bar celebrated its third anniversary yesterday, and as a VIP, I received an invitation to the party.
Being a VIP isn't the glamorous and lofty status that it sounds. Anyone can achieve it simply by filling out a form with your name, e-mail and month of birth. In return arrive the occasional e-mail announcements on specials and events and in the birthday month a coupon for a free entree.
So after playing like Paris Hilton and entering a section of the restaurant through the VIP line made festive with black and white balloons, we were each given red paper wrist bands that told the world not to mess with us entitled us to a short buffet of hot and cold finger foods along with two rubber poker chips for two free drinks (choices were a rum & coke and/or an Alaskan brew) and a red gift bag.
Tucked amid the crinkled rainbow-colored strips of paper and flames of yellow tissue paper lay assorted trinkets and coupons:
(a) A sample packet of BioFreeze, a pain-relieving ointment – possibly intended for our hangover headaches? A business card for a chiropractor was attached so probably not.
(b) A sample of Trident gum attached to a dentist’s card.
(c) An Alaskan Amber fishing lure. Maybe I can wear it as an earring.
(d) A black-boot Jack Daniels key chain. When I offered it to some guy, he turned it down, quipping that it wasn't what he'd want when he gets pulled over.
(e) A pair of chocolate bites attached to a postcard announcing the Martini Club — $5 gets you light snacks, giveaways, recipe cards and $5 martinis every third Thursday.
(e) A summer-special flyer for 1/2 off haircuts or a free cut with chemical service. Sounds scary. Probably a hair treatment. Let's hope so.
And the grand finale, this Alaskan Brewing Co. pint glass. Sans the suds:
This may well be the height of my ascension in VIP circles. Can't complain, eh?
Barefoot Blogger 