A Night At The Spotted Pig

Last night we ate at the Spotted Pig, which is a restaurant some famous people own where some famous people go. When we went, some famous people were there! Also, a ton of lame-seeming frat boys. Our residency lasted from 11:15 to 1:30 and during that time, we saw Jay Z and Beyoncé scurry from the second floor (hoi polloi) to the third floor (Empyrean Heaven). Jigga is an investor and looks like a suave African-American André The Giant, though our perception might have been altered since we were sitting on those tiny stools they have there.

Beyoncé also looked 8 feet tall. She was wearing a shiny black overcoat and her skin glowed in the soft light. "My skin would glow like that too if I got facials everyday," someone whispered. The frat boys tried to play it cool like "No big deal that the dude whose music I listen so that I feel somehow in touch with street culture is standing two feet away from me," but they failed pretty spectacularly. When the two walked in, accompanied by a Laestrygonian bouncer, the whole upstairs fell silent. Soon, among the parade to the third floor, we spotted porcine chef Mario Batali, who co-owns the Spotted Pig and his Iron Chef America sous-chef Anne Burrell, who should have been heading up the kitchen at Centro Vinoteca, where she is the chef.

We also learned some things about Adam Duritz, the frontman for the Counting Crows. Like did you know that he is a dick? He also really likes bowties but "in a crazy way." AND! To get to his bedroom, you have to pull on a book, like at the LES bar the Back Room. And you know what that book is? Bob Dylan: Lyrics. HA! Remember that part in Mr. Jones when Duritz sings, "I wanna be Bob Dylan"? He really does!

And also, Jay Z won't let men serve him. Only ladies.