Trip Back, Part II

So the movers finally wrapped up around 4:30 and I then put all my frozen food into a box to bring to my friend Brandy that I was supposed to be meeting for dinner. I got over to her place right around the time that she was getting home from work which worked out very well. Now, we were supposed to be meeting our friend Kat for dinner right around that time so I called to tell her that we would be late. Only Kat was having an insulin reaction and couldn't feel her arms. I thought about telling her to suck it up and drive with her knees, but then thought to myself "Hey, now I can shower!" so I played nice and told her it was okay to just take care of herself and call us when she felt better. By the time I got done showering and Brandy got done getting ready, Kat was on the phone wondering when we were going to dinner because now she was hungry. Only none of us knew where we were going to eat and I still had to print out a power of attorney form to have Kat witness and Brandy notarize so Mister C can sign my name next week for the closing. I let the two of them sort it out while I fought with some word processing software over how the heck to get the poa modified and printed out. Finally, Brandy stepped in and did it for me. It really is nice to have friends with brains. Anyway, they had finally decided on a restaurant near Kat's house and Brandy and I headed down to it immediately with plans to call Kat when we were close so she didn't have to wait around for us. Turns out we should have told her we were almost there as we were actually walking out the door because while it took us 15 minutes to get there, it took Kat 30. Go figure. Guess it's sort of like church, the closer you live to it, the later you get there. The restaurant the girls had decided on was an old Italian style steakhouse. Which basically means that whatever you order comes with two side dishes that are really like main dishes. I chose spaghetti & a baked potato as my sides. It also means they bring you lots and lots of bread. The bread of course is just a tool to get the mounds of butter into you. We probably sat there eating and laughing for almost two hours. I'm surprised we didn't get kicked out, and I'm sure the patrons around us had quite a tale to tell later but we sure had a blast.

After dinner, we follow Kat home and she hopped in our car and we (we meaning Kat & I) decided to find a margarita bar, which apparently doesn't exist in that town. Now, Brandy said there was one. She claims to have gone to it. But there is no proof of this. Let's just say that after she called quite of few of the people in her phone, most of whom did not answer (umm, something we should know?) she still couldn't remember where this fantastic (fictional) margarita bar was. When she finally did get a hold of someone, at first he thought he might know what she was talking about, but eventually as she described in great detail everything about this place, he realized he did not in fact know what the heck she was talking about. Finally, we gave up and decided to go to a dive bar and regroup and hope that someone there had heard of Margarita Nirvana (they hadn't).

Ah, but the dive bar was another experience by itself. First of all, it's Tuesday, so it wasn't exactly packed. Secondly, the people that were in it, were socially inept. Not in a fun "how cute!" way either. No, while one member of a certain table was wheeling over to our table repeatedly saying such things as "My friend thinks I'm racist because I won't vote for Obama (he himself was black) and telling me that I laugh "like a black woman" (WTF does that mean?), his friend was running away to the bathroom to hide out of embarrassment. (For the record, none of us were there to pick up men, we really just wanted to find a place where we could talk and laugh raucously without being kicked out.) At one point the entire other table got up to use the restroom and we took that opportunity to bail out. Their margaritas had sucked badly enough that I hadn't drank more than 1/3 of it anyway so I wasn't upset to leave. We moved on to another place that supposedly had good margaritas, only as we're going to the door a man standing outside tells us that the place just locked the doors. He goes on to say that he and his party are moving on to a nearby bar that has great bartenders and we should follow. He seemed pretty normal so we decided that maybe that was a good idea. Yeah, not so much. We got over there and as we're walking in, Brandy & Kat are in front of me and Kat said something to Brandy to which Brandy replied "You think?". I walked in and the first thing I see is a platinum blond "woman" chatting with a guy at the bar. My first impression is that this is actually a guy, but I didn't say anything because what if I'm wrong? What if it's just a woman with a hormone issue and I'm judging? Besides, if it is a guy, I'm fairly sure that "she" could kick my ass so I'm not saying anything. Well, five minutes later Kat is telling us that we need to go and in the parking lot we figure out that she has seen our gentleman "snuggling" with another man. A man he has said was a "client". Oh great. Not only do we slide into a gay bar, we manage to find one that caters to "working" people. So out we go. We finally stopped at Mexican restaurant and hit their bar. We are the only three in there, which is probably a good thing. We stayed there about an hour before dragging Kat back to her home while Brandy & I went back to her place where I was spending the night. We got to bed after midnight and she was kind enough to let me sleep until 7:30 the next morning while she got ready for work. That was probably the best time I've had with friends in a long time. I don't think I've laughed that much in ages. Now we just have to figure out how to get together every few months even though we're 1500 miles apart.