I was supposed to go to The Pogues concert on Friday night. You know, The Pogues? The awesome Irish punk/pop band from the '80s1? They are on tour - all original line up even - and I was going to go. *le sigh*
Unfortunately, my plans fell to the wayside and I didn't particularly feel like going alone. Not because I'm incapable of going places alone. I go to the movies alone all the time, for instance. But a show like that must be experienced with another person.
So I didn't go. Instead, I put on my pajama pants and curled up with Vinny, all set to order a pizza and drink wine and probably blog about the pathetic turn my life had suddenly taken.
And then I was saved by the bell. The phone bell. Well OK, it's a ring and if we're getting technical here it's not even especially ringy and more melodic but you catch my drift.
It was L* calling and, after chatting for awhile, he asked if I wanted to go grab some Thai food with him...you know, if I could pull myself away from the lure of the delivery Domino's pizza and pajama pants. I figured that could be managed given that the bra had not yet come off2.
So I set off down toward Littleton3 because you know that's apparently where we Denver-ites keep the Thai food. And since I am spatially challenged, I had no idea how long it would actually take me to get there because, according to the map provided on the Thai Bistro website, it was located just off the highway. Uhm yeah, no.
Map to Thai Bistro ripped from their website. Does it not look like the restaurant is approximately 6 blocks from Highway 6? Yeah no. Try about 10 miles.
And because I'm also suburban-directionally challenged, I made myself even later by turning the wrong way on Bowles into the dark and deserted strip mall as opposed to the extremely well-lit and well-trafficked strip mall on the other side of the street.
However, in time, I did arrive and had another wonderful evening spent in the company of L* with more great food (it was worth the drive), more great wine (I tried the Montevina Pino Grigio this time...tasty), and more laughs.
The offer was made again to enjoy another glass of wine at his house in the company of a fire and a sweet pea golden retriever, but I passed. One more glass of wine and seriously, I become a house guest but without the manners of a sober person. Besides, I hadn't packed my pajama pants.
However, the best part4? Two dates down and still no food in the cleavage. I'm starting to get cocky.
1: In my humble opinion, most bands from the '80s were awesome, so there.
2: For the record, if someone wants me to do something with them after work, that someone must catch me before the bra comes off. Because once it comes off? It ain't going back on until the next morning. Period. I don't care how cute the someone is or even if he's promising pie.
3: I did put on something other than pajama pants.
4: Besides spending time with someone who laughs at my jokes, I mean.
No comments:
Post a Comment