The Three Disappointmunches
Disappointmunch #1: When I received an invitation to the "star-studded" VIP opening of Munchbar, Bellevue Square's new "fresh and funky ultra lounge," my heart leaped. For one sweet moment, I thought that some person with the BEST BRAIN IN THE HISTORY OF SKULL FILLINGS had created a theme restaurant devoted to Detective John Munch of Homicide: Life on the Street, Law & Order, Law & Order: Special Victims Unit, Law & Order: Trial by Jury, Law & Order: The X-Files, and The Wire. But did I arrive to find a cornucopia o'er-brimming with Richard Belzer's soiled undies? No. Just orange Bellevue people wearing napkins and Hollywood Bumpits. Sigh. DISAPPOINTING.
Disappointmunch #2: I arrived hungry. I was promised "artisanal comfort foods" in the presence of Mario Lopez's (hopefully exposed!) armpits. (Oh yeah, Mario Lopez was supposed to be there. See below.) I was handed a tall glass of suntan lotion and informed that it was their signature cocktail, the Munchnut. The Munchnut. Munch. Nut. Eventually, I located one fried ball of macaroni. It did not comfort me. Nor was I convinced that an artisan made it. DISAPPOINTING.
Disappointmunch #3: Guests streamed in, each less famous than the last. Not one of them was Mario Lopez. TV monitors above the bar played seemingly random movie clips—Swingers, Anchorman, The Breakfast Club. I thought Breaking the Surface: The Greg Louganis Story would be more apropos, but it never appeared. And neither, as it turned out, did Mario Lopez. As my companion and I departed after three hours, I wondered if Munchbar hadn't accidentally booked Wario Lopez—that guy would totally pull a dick move like this. The Albert Clifford Slater I know doesn't let his fans down. DISAPPOINTING.
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