The Days of Our Lives
A thoroughly satisfying evening of intemperance. If you call this evening
Muscle Men, Swisher Sweets, A Grandma, Titos & Gatorade (lots), and plenty of Pringles (Cheesy Quesadilla). Must’ve been 11:00 pm when I snapped this Selfie. Happy Wife resisted joining us as long as she could but eventually succumbed to our incessant texts and phone calls and walked over with the Dog. By that time the four us were well pickled, laying on the grass around the campfire which we’d started purely for aesthetics except, well, we did need a way to light the cigars after all! Playing with fire, arguably, was the second instance of poor judgement. The first had it that we’d haul everything down to the lake, board the so-called Party Barge which was nothing more than a dozen or so two-by-sixes attached (somehow) to two pontoons – no railings or nothing, and then set off on the open water (white-capping pretty good by then) carrying on as we tootled along the shoreline. Try as he did, though, Jason couldn’t fix the ripcord on the Evinrude (and who could after 4 vodkas). It was then that I spotted the box of matches floating in the lake. So we moved the Party back on land and doused the wood with gasoline we found near the shed while someone ran into the house to fetch a lighter. Shortly after that it was announced we were out of Titos, so Grandma and I hustled over to Brown Jug for another half gallon, and then the Walgreens next door for Gatorade and Pringles. The cigars were an impulse buy at the register.
Next thing I remember it’s 9:00 am Sunday morning. I’m waking up from a dream nightmare where I was hit by a train. Happy Wife spent most of the night in the tent with the Dog, yet when I rolled over there she was, next to me in bed. I got up and moved (and probably sounded) like the Tin Man after a night in the rain. Took four coffees, two midday naps, and a few gallons of water to finally bring me around. This was was about 3 pm. We decided we’d take a bike ride around the neighborhood. We hadn’t ridden more than a half mile when some a**hole drives by us way too close wailing his horn. We were both riding as close to the curb as possible. I shoot him the What’s your problem? gesture which I knew he saw in his rear view mirror, and then I see him flipping his thumb at the adjacent bike trail. To further express his outrage with the supposed lawlessness of cyclists in the roadway, as if to say the roadway is for motor vehicles only (he’s wrong about that, btw) he does a U-turn in front of us, crosses the road, goes up over the curb and drives his car on the bike trail on the opposite side of the street — flipping us off the whole time!
Well, Happy Wife returned him an invective or three of her own, and we pedaled on.
Finally made our way home, I drank a bunch more water, watered the trees (been hot & dry lately), and to cap our day HW made Marcona Almond-Crusted Halibut with Simmered Sofrito for dinner.
More water for me, then finally to bed.