As detailed yesterday, the dinner's at the super-swanky private Columbia Tower Club. The chef is Ethan Stowell. The price would be $175/person, but the Celebrity Chef Tour people have given Slog two free tickets to the super-swanky James Beard Foundation benefit this Thursday.

Slog received more than 100 entries, meaning the finalists below were chosen somewhat at random (Slog moves its mouth when it reads). Some observations: Many people are unemployed. A shocking number of vegetarians are willing to forsake-and-then-pimp their politics/ethics/whatever to eat foie gras prepared by Ethan Stowell. Lots of people have someone they want to impress/thank/start-or-continue-making-sweet-love-to. Regular Slog commenters are hungry for swank. (A representative from each of these camps is found below.)

There are probably too many candidates here; apologies, it's just that there were so many good ones. And sorry everybody can't go—Slog would totally send all 100-plus with their plus-ones if possible. Slog will try to remember to close this poll in about an hour so that the lucky winner can begin selecting their outfit. Ready?

UPDATE! And the winner is...

The Unpregnant, Talentless, Sasquatchian Food-Eater:

Couldn’t win Sedaris tickets because men can’t get pregnant. Couldn’t win the Gong show because I am talentless and timid. Couldn’t win Humpfest 'cause people are spontaneously repulsed by the sight of my Sasquatchian ass. I can, however, eat like a foodie. Finally, something I can win. Please let me.

The rest of the finalists and the final poll results are after the jump. Thank you, Slog!

The Nearly-Laid-Off Fiance:

I'm AWOL. I'm getting laid off from a non-profit cafe/resource center which helps active duty soldiers, military family, and veterans. I'm getting married in two weeks. I'd like to take Suzie Lee out for a nice meal before I hit the poorhouse, and also rub shoulders with rich liberals who want to support the troops.

The Erstwhile Vegetarian:

Meat free for three years... Let's blame Bellingham. I miss meat but especially Seattle. I'm putting down my sign-on-a-stick, washing my hair, and coming home. This is my express train. "You'll get hives!" they assail. Bring it: Rich buttery hives. I'll even take someone down with me.

The Impoverished Comp Lit Student:

I am an impoverished graduate student in comparative literature. Job prospects = nil. The love of my life is a prince among men. This is my best chance to give him the swanky dinner he deserves.

The Person Who Is Weary of Douchey Food-Types:

First, I love food. Second, the next time some condescending douche asks if I’ve tried [fancy trendy expensive food], I want to casually say “I think I had that at the Beard dinner.” As I cannot backhand these pretentious dickheads, I figure this would be the next best thing.

The Bathroom Masturbator:

There's something insanely arousing about the thought of wrapping my fingertips around the pure sex of Stowell-imagined cuisine. Think of it: buttery foie gras melting on your tongue, deep throated with intoxicating wine, then jerking off in the amazing bathroom with white bean mascarpone looking out over the starlit sound...

The Broke Sous Chef:

I’m 26. I’m broke. I’m a sous chef and I can never afford to eat really good food. I need this meal to further my education and career so that someday it can be me making fois gras two ways for upscale eastside assholes. Think of it as an investment.

The Depressed, Guilty Human:

I need those swanky dinner tickets! I need to give them to the kind and hard-working therapist who has helped to save my life; I'm very behind in my payments to him and this would help to alleviate my guilt and anxiety.

The Do-Gooder Volunteer:

Slog should choose me for the super-swanky dinner at Columbia tower because I leave on Saturday for a year-long volunteer position in Nicaragua doing well water remediation. Shouldn't I be awarded the joy and pleasure of eating a fancy Seattle dinner before I leave?

The Would-Be James Beard Channeler:

James Beard was an eccentric. He was expelled from college, placed food on celebrities' bodies, and was the loudest, most irreverent person at the table. Today, Beard’s image has been pared down to the swanky and elite. Let me go to the Columbia Club to re-infuse the old spirit.

A Person and Their Jew Who Wouldn't Even Go:

Tickets should go to me (and my Jew). We're the hottest couple in Seattle. If we went, we would fuck another hot couple, one you could probably never score with. We won't even go. We just want to prevent someone else from going and talk about how hot we are.