This past Tuesday night started out like any other. Well, other than the fact that I'd already walked to the halal cart for lamb over rice. And yeah I know, many will judge me for going before 2 a.m. but I'd missed it the previous two nights so the craving was real.

Nevertheless, my boyfriend — who decided not to disown me for my dinner choice — and I went to our fave watering hole for a normal late night. Little did we know, however, our regular plans would be changing very soon. A friend of ours walked in with a couple friends and sat down inside the bar.

Thirty minutes later, our friend was walking out with another friend who he'd convinced to go with him and his two friends to Chasers Charlotte NoDa. You know what happened next. They started in on us, trying to convince us to tag along. *Sigh* Just when I thought we'd enjoy a quiet night on a patio with just the two of us.

A quick Google search turned up these results: "'Where the happy people party!' A fun gay nightclub featuring the finest in female impersonation from all over the nation and sexy go-go boys." Yep, we were in for a hell of an experience if we decided to go.

I looked at my boyfriend immediately trying to gauge whether or not he was in for a drastic change in scenery. Me personally, I'm no stranger to LGBT nightlife. In fact, some of the most fun I've had in Charlotte has been at popular spots such as Scorpios, Bar 316 and (what used to be) L4 Lounge. However, this particular night, I was uninterested.

I voiced my complaints, "It's going to be too loud. I don't do the club scene anymore. I'm not in the mood." To each of my concerns, the boyfriend rolled his eyes. I think he knew I really wasn't in the right frame of mind, but the lack of valid excuses weren't working either, especially when some of them were coming across snobbish or like I was a "know-it-all."

When it was all said and done, the boo was convinced, even though I couldn't tell if he thought I was trying to do the convincing through my complaining. Despite my anxiety, I try to go with the flow. So guess what? We grabbed an Uber with another patio straggler — who, I might add, said that Chasers was a good time and that it could be confirmed by all the "hot chicks" present.

Our driver, who looked a lot like Fortune Feimster, pulled past the spot (we didn't know where we were going) and she said, "Wait, y'all going to Chasers?" She put the car in reverse and pulled into a sketchy little parking lot where there was a sign on a small building over a door that looked more like a back entrance. She assured us we were going in the right way, that we'd have a good time and ended with, "Oh hey, it's free taco night and stay out of the bathroom." She laughed a hearty laugh and we walked away from the car a bit confused as we walked down the stairs into the nightclub.

It was dark, but someone waved us over to a window on the right where we got IDed and I peeped a sign that said, "CASH BAR ONLY." No worries, though, they have an ATM inside. We got out cash and proceeded to the bar before grabbing seats at a table right in front and below the stage. The venue is small, so I was thankful that there weren't a lot of people on this eventful Tuesday.

When the performers were on stage, the faces in the crowd lit up. And as for those performers, they took their jobs very seriously. Their makeup was on point, their outfits were lit and if they ever missed a step in their routine, I couldn't tell. Some of our group passed ones to the performers as they made their way down the stairs of the stage into the crowd. I just observed as I was still trying to figure out when I was going to be buzzed enough to be on the same level as everyone else.

It wasn't until we stepped outside that we realized our third wheel didn't know that ladies loving ladies weren't there every single night of the week. Talk about a riot. He was clearly shook and it was hilarious to me. It was late, 1:30 a.m. or so., so we'd have to save real fun at the venue for another night. We hopped in an Uber and drove away.

The next morning, the boyfriend and I laughed as we remembered our adventure. Even though I wanted a better first experience that I was prepared for, I was thankful my boyfriend didn't let me Chase the fun away.

A few weeks ago, I shared with my readers the lofty goal of trying a different restaurant for date night at least once a week. Well, if you follow my @omgclt_ Instagram account and check out my OMGNOMS highlights, you'll see that the boo and I have been doing a pretty good job whittling down the list of the newest — and I would argue best — additions to the Q.C. dining scene.

Shortly after that article, my guy suggested going to Haymaker Restaurant in uptown Charlotte beneath Ascent Uptown Apartments across from Romare Bearden Park. I'll be honest, I'm an all-day grazer. I don't eat a lot in one sitting but if you add up how much I'm eating throughout the day, I guarantee it beats how much my boyfriend eats.

Not to mention, he prefers eating dinner late at night while I prefer eating around 6 p.m. So you can imagine, #hangry attitudes have taken hold way more often than he would like. And I have to apologize for what I've said when I was hangry more than I'm proud to say.

Luckily, however, neither of us were super hungry when it came time for our reservation at 8:30 p.m. I was thankful for the fact we didn't have too much of an appetite when I looked at the prices of the items on the large plates (balling on a budget). Especially considering we end up sharing a few small plates at other restaurants and being super full.

I checked out the menus beforehand as I always do. And the first thing I welcomed was the slogan: Make hay while the sun shines. Then I read that their specialty is farm-fresh fare — prepared by Chef William Dissen and Chef de Cuisines Ashley Quick — and fine cocktails. Combine that with a focus on food sourced from nearby, and you've sold me on a tasty experience with a deliberate conscience (I say this while arguing the true meaning of farm-to-table, *sighs* blame my women's studies background).

When we walked in, the first thing I noticed was the rustic-meets-modern decor, the bright lighting and the spacious concept. The space extends upward for two stories adding to the open feel (and additional seating space), especially when the entire front of the restaurant is comprised of windows.

The hostess was ready to invite us to our table, even though we were a few minutes late, and we settled in without any issues at a two-person table.

We took a long breath from the menu and, in usual fashion, decided to start with the easier-to-digest cocktail menu. The Haymaker Punch: bourbon, lemon, apple, ginger, shrub and cider ($12). Harvest Spritz: aperol, amaro montenegro, cava and orange peel ($10). At least that part was easy.

When it came to food, the task wasn't quite as simple. The waitress, who was almost too attentive (if you can even really get annoyed by that), had to come back to our table a few times before we were ready to just choose already.

However, we finally settled upon three small plates and a dessert that we'd share: crispy pork belly with sorghum glaze, field pea succotash, Benton's bacon, roasted onion broth and peanuts ($14); crispy fingerling potatoes with fresno aioli ($6); roasted asparagus with romesco, fried egg and herb croutons ($10); followed up by whipped ricotta cheesecake with lemon curd and thyme crumble.

And in case you're wondering, yes, we were full. First of all, fingerling potatoes will always fill you up and the aioli was delicious.

Let's be real, I'm no food critic, but I know how to balance my hunger, taste and wallet all at the same damn time. If ever someone wanted me to try every item on their menu, trust I'd still be able to make sound judgments on taste to share with picky eaters like myself.

To top it off, Haymaker serves breakfast every day of the week and brunch from 10 a.m. to 2:30 p.m. on Saturday and Sunday. (Make sure you check out the featured biscuit of the day before brunch.)

Given Charlotte's iffy food scene when compared to neighbors like Asheville in the past, Haymaker has most likely cemented its place in the Q.C. If I were you, I'd try it out the next time you're planning a date night and secure your reservation via OpenTable ahead of time. (Broke folk beware: there's a $6 loaf of bread you can order before your meal. I'd put that toward your entree unless you're just in the mood for yeast.)

"Oh I see you, country girl."

"Are you telling me he's gotten you to like country music?????? #truelove"

"Ummmm you know I'm excited about this! #countrygirlnow?"

Those were the comments that appeared underneath a picture of my boo and me after we went to the PNC Music Pavilion to see Old Dominion and Kenny Chesney. Why, you may ask? One, I've never liked country music. Two, I'm dating a white guy, if you didn't know already. And some of my friends, past and present, are just now finding out both of these little facts. That's what happens when you fall in love and go on hiatus for a while. I can't blame them. After all, the transition between single life to, "'We like going to the poke spot near Dilworth Neighborhood Grille ... terrible customer service is one of 'our' biggest pet peeves ... 'we' love watching scary movies together... " happened overnight for some – including my mom. And this, my friends, is what love is.

That being said, my taste in music (and partners) has always been fairly diverse. In fact, I sent him a screenshot of "Written in the Sand" by Old Dominion asking him if he'd heard the song before.

He and his friends have had to "adapt," too – by adapt, I hope you understand that I mean "sometimes you got to" make adjustments to your behavior, worldview and conversation in order to understand others. After all, Aerin's still going to turn up to Cardi B and argue about why #blacklivesmatter - and everyone listens. But I digress.

When one of my love's friends invited us to go to the concert last Friday, there was no hesitation when I responded with, "Yes, that sounds like fun." I didn't care who was performing, if I'd heard a song, that the genre was country or that we'd have to hike to PNC. All I cared about was the fact that I was going to be able to spend that time with the man of my dreams. And to me, that's the type of love that Kenny Chesney is talking about in "Get Along," released on April 6 this year.

"We find out when you die the keys to heaven can't be bought. We still don't know what love is but we sure know what it's not. Sometimes you got to ... get along." True love means being willing to step outside of your comfort zone, trying to understand ideas you've never been introduced to and even going to country concerts at PNC to listen to artists you may never have heard of.

That being said, my partner and I are really good at communicating when it comes to laughing at the haters, ignoring the ignorant and reconciling our differences. That's why it was easy for us to laugh at the fact that we anticipated the absence of black people at the show. (Some would maybe chop this up to the fact that we were #blessed with box seats. But I don't have time to get into social politics and perceived financial status. I don't care what color you are, free tickets, especially when they're epic, are free tickets.)

We settled in our seats as Old Dominion was performing their first song – traffic to PNC on a Friday afternoon is horrendous. Immediately, I noticed two things: how amazing it was to sit underneath fans with misters and how upbeat the atmosphere was. And when "Written in the Sand" came on, my boo turned to me quickly flashing a smile so big I could've melted.

By the time Kenny Chesney actually came on, I can honestly say I felt right at home. I observed cougars twerking in a box with a man who I'd imagined was their sugar daddy — after all, he wasn't "easy on the eyes." I witnessed Medics wheeling a girl out of the stadium — yes, country folk get lit, too. I thanked the high heavens that we didn't tailgate all day when we saw how sloppy drunk some people were — you would've thought the stairs were never ending. Can you ask for more entertainment?

But then it happened. The moment we'd laughed about and had been waiting for. I saw my first black person. It was as if the heavens opened up. A black woman walks toward us hand-in-hand with a white guy, donning cowboy boots, a cowboy hat, booty shorts and 18-inch yaki weave. Get. It. Bish. My boo and I burst out laughing and it's as if she was reading my mind when she glanced at me and smiled the biggest smile of recognition.

Anyways, I joke a lot about the dynamics of social interactions in nightlife. However, there are specific situations which really highlight how set in our ways we really are. A black girl at a country concert being one of them. But if we're really going to learn how to "Get Along" we're going to have to try to understand one another in a wide variety of spaces and figure out how to appreciate our differences.

When's the last time you pushed the boundaries of your comfort zone in Q.C.? Share it with me.

On Friday, I received a text from my boo asking if I wanted to go to a comedy show. I've been to a couple comedy shows, movies and operas (i.e. The Book of Mormon), but I've never sought them out on my own — unless we're talking about the time Katt Williams did standup on 4/20 a few years ago. However, I'm always down for a good time, especially when my "mans" is going to be there.

Before that, however, I had to make sure I made it to Harris Teeter for my P.I.C.'s birthday shindig. I spoke a few weeks ago about the allure of pregaming or maybe even just hanging for the night at bottle shops and grocery stores, like the Harris Teeter wine bar on Providence Road. I somehow ended up sleeping until 3 p.m. so of course I was running late. I showed up, grabbed a glass of rosé and settled in to giving all the hugs.

The next stop on the birthday tour was Tilt — her fave spot — for more drinks and a catered meal. For those who have never tried, certain special folk just might be able to convince the right person at Tilt to let them bring in some pulled pork, mac and cheese and jalapeno bites. It was 6:30 p.m. before I knew it and the comedy show was starting at 7 p.m.

I walked to The Corner Pub – you already knew that would make an appearance – and soon after our Uber was on the way. When we arrived, it felt weird to be walking to the proper door and not stumbling down from La Revolucion upstairs. And walking in to The Comedy Zone - Charlotte was that much weirder. "I must have been a lot drunker the last time I was here," I thought to myself. Why? Because it looks a lot like a crowded Steak 'n Shake.

The tables are awkwardly close together and it was already packed when we showed up. We squeezed in to our seats at a four top along the wall on the left side. Thank goodness for a boyfriend who's strategic when it comes to placement because my anxiety would NOT have been able to deal otherwise.

Either way. I'm not lying when I say that I had NO IDEA who I was getting ready to see. In fact, I don't know if I'd misheard the featured comedian's name when I was told who it was or not, but I was definitely telling people I was going to see "Future. No not the rapper, the lesbian comedian." (Glad I didn't repeat that too often to people who actually weren't ignorant.) Clearly, I was wrong, the feature was Fortune Feimster, a native of Belmont, North Cackalacky! And just like that, I was on board.

UnFORTUNately, (see what I did there?), The Comedy Zone didn't post anything about the two opening comedians so I can't tell you who they were. What I can tell you is the first comedian, also a lesbian, was solid. She covered everything from not thinking she was a "gay-by" (aka born gay) to discovering that she likes black things inside of her (that don't involve a male) and the entire performance was filled with genuine laughter.

The second guy pretty much fell flat. Maybe an acquired taste? He kept joking about losing the crowd via certain jokes, so there's a possibility that the crowd just didn't align with his sense of humor.

Naturally, however, Fortune took home the gold. She walked out in a button up that she unbuttoned to reveal a tee that said, "Cherie Berry lifts me up!" As to be expected from referencing perhaps the state's most recognized elected official, that joke landed before Fortune had said a word. She, too, kept it super light. In fact, she kept the spotlight on herself for the most part. She joked about how kidnappers didn't want to steal her (even though she's the perfect candy-loving candidate) because she looked like the kid from Bad Santa, and if you take a gander at her Instagram, you'll see EXACTLY what she means.

What took the cake about her performance though? Her ability to ad lib was also on point! When you're asking someone from China how the sushi is there and you can't catch your breath because you're attempting to correct yourself and rephrase your question and say "I mean, sweet and sour chicken?!" And if your takeaway is along the lines of, "Guess you had to be there..." check her out in "The Standups" on Netflix and see for yourself!

Guess whose birthday it was last week? That's right. Yours truly. The big 2-8. My goodness, what a lackluster age to turn. This time last year, I didn't know it but I was taking part in a series of events that would almost lead to my demise.

No joke, last summer was one of those summers where you look back and it makes sense why Britney Spears cut off her hair in 2007. So this year, I was just excited about putting the past year behind me.

When my friends started asking me weeks in advance, "What do you want to do?" I felt the shrug and roll of my eyes in my response because I was genuinely uninterested in the idea of being disappointed two years in a row.

But my lackadaisical attitude wasn't going to keep April 25 from coming. The next thing I knew, every single day of the week was a night I couldn't remember with people I couldn't forget.

It started on Tuesday at The Corner Pub (of course). When the clock struck midnight, my boo thang, my friends and my CP family sang me "Happy Birthday" while my "cake" was sat in front of me.

And by cake, I mean a chicken tender smothered in hot sauce with a single lit candle and a side of ranch! (I've never been a huge fan of cake.)

And after dinner at my fave restaurant – Bahn Thai in Ballantyne – on my actual birthday the next night, I couldn't ask for a better surprise.

That's when those same people I was with on Tuesday (plus some) pulled the ultimate okiedoke.

Even though I was exhausted after what felt like a week-long birthday celebration, I agreed to go on a double date with my friend and her boyfriend at Dandelion Market.

I was exhausted, and all I could think about on our way to dinner was how excited I was to enjoy a glass of wine and great wine before heading home to go straight to sleep. But it's just never that simple in my world.

The boyfriend and I parked in the parking deck next door to Dandelion Market (which, by the way, is not validated at the popular restaurant).

When we walked in, I noticed my friend and her boyfriend sitting at the bar waiting on us – of course we were late. After what I would later describe as an awkward encounter, we walked upstairs to be seated.

When we got to the top of the stairs while I was looking for the table we were going to be seated at, I heard all of this commotion coming from the center of the room.

I glanced to see who was causing all the ruckus and that's when I realized it was my CP family and friends! They'd organized this entire situation and I was absolutely clueless.

But I digress. All that was to give you a little insight into Dandelion Market. If you haven't heard by now, this venue is more than just a bed of drunken madness at 1 a.m., it's also a highly popular destination for brunch, lunch and dinner seven days a week.

I'd only been there a couple times for food, however, I'd had a decent experience eating the food.

This time, all 15 or so people in attendance settled on one thing - Everything at the Market for $295 (dine in only).

What madness is that you ask? Oh, just every single thing on the menu for less than $300.

I'm not going to lie, even though I cosigned the decision, I was nervous. What if I didn't get to taste everything I wanted? What if I was still hungry after the fact?

Both reasonable questions to ask, wouldn't you think?

Nope, not even relevant questions at all. The special comes in three waves of food. By the second, I was full beyond words. By the end of it, everyone had that look when you eat too much and you know you could fall asleep at the drop of a dime.

Not to mention, there was so much left we could've fed three to five more people!

My favorite items: sweet potato gnocchi, fried brie salad, sweet and spicy green beans, sausage stuffed poblano pepper and the pork belly.

However, maybe the only reason those were my faves is because I was too full to appreciate everything else? I know one thing, Everything at the Market is perfect for parties 15 or more (and birthdays).

If you haven't been to Dandelion Market yet, plan a trip before the market menu item goes up. They're open seven days a week.