Good gravy, this day has been ridiculous already and now I have to rush through this post, but I will not be playing Rush in this post.
heeeeee....
Last night I got up with Dick Whitman, as I said I was gonna do, and we sat up at the bar, because all we did was split appetizers. Why this means "naturally we sat up at the bar for that" is beyond me.
I look like I have something in my teeth, but I didn't.
You know, I'm playing that stupid Rush song while I'm typing this and it makes me want to kill myself.
Anyway, I really liked our bartender. She was a delight. At the end of the night, the check came, and I did my thing I always do, which is sort of toss the bill in the air like the price has shocked me. Wait. Lemme do it for you now.
I enjoy how that was accompanied by Rush. And how I have on exactly what I had on last night. IT'S BEEN A DUMB MORNING!
The point is, I DO that stupid "the check is here" gesture because my dad does it at restaurants. Which is what I explained to the bartender and she said, "It's amazing, the things we get from our parents. And who knows if your dad got that from HIS dad? What are you, Irish?" she asked, which I am, among other things. I guess the angry Irish hair tipped her off.
"Maybe in the 15th century, some Irish lord was doing that with HIS bill," she said. Which led to me having to explain to her I am CERTAIN I am not descended from lords. Maybe some drunk guy at a shabby pub, Gawaine Gardens or whomever, did that, but he was no lord.
Anyway.
So we had a good time, and I complained about my woes and Whitman complained about his, but then it was time for me to go home and see Ned. By "home" I mean Greensboro, because Whit and I were in Winston-Salem. Does it seem like I'm always traipsing out there instead of him traipsing over here?
At any rate, it was good to see Ned, although some really important baseball event was on, which means we had to watch that, and eventually I got bored and went to bed. "Oh don't go yet!" said Ned, but it was late and, you know, sports. So I went to his room and laid down.
Next thing you know it was morning and Ned had to get to work, and as he ALWAYS does, he says, "Why don't you stay and sleep in? You can leave whenever you want." And as usual I say no, because I have to go home and let out the dogs. You can't do anything decadent when you have dogs.
Oh, but that reminds me, yesterday after work they were playing in the yard and they were being adorable. They were running all over there like banshees, as fast as they could, so I got the camera, knowing full well as soon as they sensed me looking at them they'd stop playing and come bug me instead. Which is not nearly as photo-worthy.
This was the only one I got before they were all:
we see yuuu, mom! we seeeeeeee yuuuuuu! hullo mom! to stop playeeng and see mom!
Won't you enjoy my sisal rug, which I had to scrub the bejeezus out of after Violet left, which I then draped out there to dry and forgot about and now it's covered in leaves?
Organized.
I like how I said I had to rush through this
heeeeee
and I keep talking. I haven't even gotten to the POINT.
So it was early ludicrous morning and Ned was walking me to my car in his parking lot. Not that he owns a parking lot. Would that he DID, because then this wouldn't have happened.
We were chattering like magpies about something, and we could see the lot as we approached it. "Where the hell's your car?" asked Ned. "Oh, probably stolen. You know how popular 2008 Bugs are."
We got all the way INTO the parking lot before we realized my car? It was not there.
"Did you...no. You didn't park in the other thing, did you?" No, I hadn't parked in the other thing.
"MY POOR CAR!" I said. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to it!" Oh, I was sad. WHY WOULD SOMEONE STEAL A BUG?
"You know, remember I told you a few weeks ago they were gonna hand out guest passes pretty soon? I wonder if I didn't read that announcement carefully enough." But Ned isn't the kind of person who'd read something uncarefully. Have you met his menus?
We had to traipse back up to his house, and he had to call in late to work. "This is Ned. I'm a tramp. Now I'm a tramp having to deal with a woman's stolen car." I had to call MARVIN, because he pays for my car insurance, and thank god I got his voice mail. Because there was someone I wanted to deal with. I could hear his flared nostrils all the way over at Ned's.
Finally he got ahold of the company that runs his building. Turns out? They'd put guest passes on everyone's door while Ned was, yes, out of town. And some idiot STOLE his.
Yeah.
What we had, then, was a lovely drive to a beautiful part of Greensboro, and it turns out there must be a new trend in window treatments: boards. We got to the world's warmest, most cheerful car-towing place, and Ned had to pay $175.
"I didn't even put out!" I exclaimed, which probably delighted the guy at the towing place, who looked like he found his job totally rewarding. He was no bartender from last night, lemme tell you.
Here is Ned ponying up. So when I say MY ludicrous morning I guess I sorta mean NED'S ludicrous morning. Ned pointed out, "What if for once you HAD stayed late at my house? You'd go down there and there'd be no car. And you wouldn't be able to get back into my place," which has gates and key codes and you'd think everyone who lived there collected gold bullion. I mean, Ned does, but everyone? Come on.
I had totally bought a Nissan Cube in my mind, with that insurance money. Crap.
