The Man and I had a date the other night. Like, for REAL a date. We had no kids with us and we went to a restaurant that did not have a kids menu and I ordered a $12 glass of wine. Heck, I ordered two of them. I could have almost had two boxes of wine for that, but ambiance, people... ambiance.
The restaurant was French and located next to the water and we sat outside and enjoyed a gorgeous South Florida night and I felt fancy.
French restaurants are always fun because I get to base what I'm going to order on what I can actually pronounce so that I don't look like a fool to the server. It was all for naught, though, because for an appetizer we ordered this Bistro plate where you pick two cheeses and one meat and they put it all together with some other delicious munchies and I couldn't pronounce any of that stuff, except for Gruyere. So we asked the server for recommendations. And it was good. French cheese is super fantastic.
After our delicious meal, we decided to walk by the water for a while and talk. It was heavenly to be out and wearing make-up and perfume and nail polish on my toes and to be carrying a purse that barely fit my wallet and lip gloss.
We held hands, we talked, we looked at the lights on the water, it was peaceful and romantic and really a perfect date.
And then we went to Walmart.
Yeah... sort of a culture shock. I would have preferred a more upscale grocery store, but at 1 AM you take what you can get. And the cat probably would have smothered us in our sleep if we didn't bring cat food home.
We were the fanciest people at Walmart, though. I'm sure of that.
Art mystery possibly solved?
2 days ago
1 comments:
Somehow, our rare dates usually end up at some store or another too.
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