Let me introduce you to my friend Mike Chalut. He’s something of a personality in Toronto, having been the co-star of a few TV shows in the past, including Wedding SOS and Kim’s Rude Awakenings, and also hosting some of Toronto’s more upscale parties in stylish downtown hotspots like Ultra Supper Club, Brassai, the not-quite-fully-opened-yet Maison, and the place we went to last night, MoRoCo.

Mikey came into my life a couple of months ago during a day soon after I had quit smoking and was foraging around the radio station, demanding that the sales reps bring me chocolate to get me through the cravings. Mike was in the studio and miraculously had chocolate available, just for me! It was not just any chocolate, either; it was some of the most delicious chocolate I had ever eaten! I almost regretted having to waste such a delicacy on a nic fit. Mike told me that the chocolate came from his place, MoRoCo.

At that time, we had a number of interviews on the station with clients of local businesses, so I figured he owned some sort of chocolate shop. Thus, I was mildly confused when I saw him again at the station a few days later, and then again the day after that. Every time he hugged me and said hello and remembered my name, and every time I wondered vaguely, “Why is the chocolate guy here again?”

Then one day it occurred to me that he was not in fact the chocolate guy; he was the new afternoon host! Colour me surprised. Soon after this revelation came a second: Mike the chocolate guy/new afternoon host just loves me.

He came bursting into my work area one day with a pained look on his face and invited me downstairs so that he could smoke a cigarette and talk to me alone. He had just been through a stressful meeting with a journalist for a local newspaper. What Mike had thought was going to be a friendly interview turned out to be an ambush, the journalist attacking him for events that had happened at the radio station before he was hired.

However, in his own very positive way, Mike had simply answered the questions with bright optimism and cheer. The journalist at one point said to him, "I don't believe that you are actually this happy. It's impossible. I am going to break you." But he was unable to do so. Mike really is that positive. It drives people around him nuts.

So he stood smoking and telling me this story, asking my advice on how he should proceed. I gave him my opinion, and he told me that he had known that I would be the person to talk to, because we have a special connection. I thought to myself, "Until last week, I thought you were the chocolate guy!" But I kept my thoughts to myself, because the truth is, his admiration is infectious and I found myself kinda loving him, too.

In the time since that happened, we have become very close friends at work. We're around the same age and we just seem to get each other. He has been inviting me to come to his clubs for weeks now, so last night I decided to check out MoRoCo. Mike works there on Fridays. Basically his job is to make sure the place is packed and happening.

MoRoCo is this chocolate lounge in Yorkville, one of Toronto's more upscale neighbourhoods. The menu is packed with delicious choices, from decadent éclairs and brownies to savoury cheeses and sandwiches. Plus a whole roster of drinks to choose from. I had only ever walked by the place before; the average price of a drink there is $20---a bit more than I am willing to spend.

But the Mike Chalut VIP treatment makes that all moot. In the afternoon when he invited me out, he said, "When you're with me, you never pay for drinks!" He wasn't lying. Michelle and I walked into the place, and the first thing the woman at the counter did was to give us a "tour of the place." Which is to say, she pulled out a selection of several truffles and macarons for us to try, explaining each one as we tasted. Mike poured us each a shot of sipping chocolate, and I was very soon vibrating like a small child the day after Halloween.

We sat out on the patio and ordered frozen sangria. It was nothing like what I would call sangria, but I didn't care. It was delicious! We sipped on those, talked about work, ordered another round, and then another, at which point Mike told me about his great heartbreak in life, and then we had another frozen sangria, and then we worked out a plan for world domination. It was great!

By this time I was feeling pretty drunk and Mike decided that the answer was more chocolate, so he ordered us the Holy Trinity of chocolate fondue---white, dark and milk chocolate with a platter of fruit and pastries. Oh my lord, cue the angels singing. I have just found religion!

It was around this point that Chalut hit what he likes to call “the ditch.” He was done with MoRoCo and wanted to head to the gay village. The three of us tipped our lovely waitress and stumbled out, catching a cab for a distance I would normally have walked in about ten minutes.

At Church and Wellesley, the level of Mike’s fame was made apparent to me. As we walked down the street, I could hear people calling to him from across the street, from the patios, from all directions, “Chalut! Chalut!” I felt like I was part of some exclusive entourage. We walked into another bar and people just handed us free drinks. Apparently people know this Mike fellow. And here I was all along, thinking he was the chocolate guy.

Three bars later, Michelle and I were done. Mike, being firmly entrenched in the ditch, wanted us to stay, but it was a go-now-or-barf situation. We poured ourselves into a cab and left Mike with a new friend on the corner of Church and Wellesley.

This morning, I awoke to see a new text from Mikey, telling me that he had invited half of Church Street back to his condo for a party after we left. That ditch of his runs deep. I also found the following status posted on my Facebook wall:

Sharkskin karl lagerfelds yes.

I am still trying to determine what I meant by that.