So we headed to a coastal town near our home and spent a couple of days doing nothing.
nothing. nada. rien. nichts. niente.
no laundry. no dishes. no cooking. no paying bills. no refereeing. no reminding young adults to turn off lights. no telling teenagers to pick up their dirty clothes. no driveway that looks like a used car lot.
*sigh*...it was heavenly
Now it had been foggy and misty all day long last Friday and by 5:30 in the afternoon it was starting to get a little chilly outside so you can imagine how cold and wet this poor guy was by the time we came upon him on the interstate. And to be willing to sit on the back on truck that 1. has no sides to keep you in, and 2. has you surrounded by things that could quite possibly impale you should your driver stop quick, makes for an interesting dude. Plus you add the weather, traffic, weird chicks taking your picture and that he probably had been up since the crack of dawn, you kinda feel sorry for the guy.
Oh and he was smoking. Yep, as we passed the truck and its water-logged stowaway I looked over and there he was, just a puffin' away on his soggy cig. How he kept that thing lit, I'll never know.
So we left our wet willie and headed towards our first night's dinner date. "The dinner" that came with a gift card. "The dinner" that began with the words, "how many in your party?" and wasn't answered with our usual "table for 19 please"
"two please, a table for two"
I'm giddy just from the memory of it...
And finally "The dinner" that ended with this...hubba hubba