Tuesday, February 12, 2008

Lame Excuse for Roses Day

I'm personally, spiritually, and morally opposed to Valentine's Day, but Jamie is not, so I have to cast aside my reservations and celebrate "Lame Excuse for Roses Day" anyway.

Because this week is a bit busy for us, Jamie and I celebrated the demented holiday prematurely on Sunday night at this restaurant (for someone who cares very little for seafood, I highly recommend their Bang Bang Shrimp). It was a great evening. Let me tell you about it.

All was well at Bonefish. I seriously could not have planned a more romantic evening. Even though I'm personally, spiritually, and morally opposed to Valentine's Day, I do know how to make a woman happy. I mean, I know a lot about a lot of things, but I'm here to tell you...I know women like I know every square inch of my glorious, naked body! (no, there will not be a link to that picture, much to the chagrin of female (and maybe male, you never know) Ford Retort readers)).

Romance was in the air (with Jamie and the waiter, that is...she thought he was really cute). I was singing the praises of the love of my life (at the time, it was the Bang Bang Shrimp). And of course, we were serenaded by romantic, live music...well it was actually the boisterous discussion of three drunk guys at the bar...

Now personally, intoxicated individuals never have bothered me (as long at they aren't vomiting on my feet). They just don't for some reason. They don't offend me. They don't really make me mad. I just laugh at them. They usually are fun conversation pieces. For me, I choose not to become inebriated because I have a hard enough time not telling people what I really think of them when I'm sober. If I get drunk, all bets are off. (On a side note, I'm reminded of a poster that a friend of mine had in his dorm room. You can find it here. If you look at the pitcher of beer closely, you'll see 200 slang terms for drunkenness. My personal favorites: sloshed, shickered, and wankered (and another one I can't write)).

Let's get back to the main plot. The three drunk guys at the bar at Bonefish. Two of them (let's call them Bob and Bill) were together. Their attire suggested they had been golfing. And they were just carrying on by themselves...until they noticed that the guy sitting at the other end of the bar looked like Refrigerator Perry. Bob went over to the man (let's call him Fridge) and said, "Hey man, you look like Refrigerator Perry," and a friendship was instantaneously born between Bob, Bill, and Fridge. Whoa! I mean, these dudes got excited at their new find and let everybody know about it. And of course the conversation turned to football and the Super Bowl and what not (let me again remind you, I'm sitting with Jamie...not at the bar...and can clearly understand every word the three amigos are saying).

To make a long story short, Bob, Bill, and Fridge made a quiet ruckus. They talked, laughed, and had a good time. It bothered Jamie and me a touch, but their behavior really seemed to irk our fellow culinary comrades. Hey...all in good fun. But we ate (our creme brulee was particularly sensual!), paid, and went on our way. After Jamie and I left the restaurant, I heard, "Hey sir," as we were walking in the parking lot to my vehicle. It was Bill (he had gone outside to take a smoke). "Sir, I just want to apologize for our behavior inside. I hope we didn't ruin your meal." I assured Bill he perpetrated no such transgression as we continued to walk to my vehicle. Yet Bill continued to talk.

As I looked into his blood-shot eyes, I sensed Bill needed to get something off his chest. He needed a friend to hear him out. Plus, it was obvious he was going to keep talking anyway (with a very thick tongue, might I add). Bill said, "I'm sorry for disturbing y'all. I skipped church this morning and that's why I got drunk." I quickly retorted, "Friend, don't feel bad. We're all sinners. Many Sundays, I have to get drunk so I can go to church and endure it." Bill continued on, "Just pray for my friend in there. His name is Johnny Right...Johnny Wrong...He just needs to get straight. He owes me $2,000...he lost a bet to me." I counseled Bill and told him it might be wise to forgive the debt as the borrower is slave to the lender. Bill agreed it would be wise to forgive the debt, and we left it at that.

So much for romance. It's a good thing Jamie and I love to laugh together.

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