Friday

017

September 4, 2009 :: Date Nite

Probably every married couple does this. And, to be honest, I resent being so typical, as well as having to set a night for Blake and I to ditch our pots, pans, dogs and couch time with Netflix and join the messy pot of regular society we used to jump directly into nearly every night. I mean holy majoley, we don't even have any kids. But, stuff changes, our finances don't allow such luxuries right now, and yadda yadda...we're an old boring married couple and apparently need a weekly "Date Night."

It's Wednesdays by the way, and there are rules (because if I don't make it some kind of challenge, I will die from the utter lameness.) You can't spend more than $20 a person, and some combination of food, drinks and entertainment must be involved. Two out of three being optimum, but three of three within the cash limit being sort of a date night grand slam.

So far, we're one and a half nights in. The one half being that this wednesday each of us had other comittments and put it off until tonight. The first one was a rip-roarer (Yacht Club to Star Bar to El Myr) and we should have quit while we were ahead, for sure. But tonight sounds even more exciting: Our friend Adam's band The Pinx at Criminal Records (free, with free food and beer), one of our other friend Goldman's many side-projects, Henry Porter at Kavarna later on (free), and very likely a stop at the Yacht Club (or the Porter, if I'm feelin' spendy) in between. (not free, but horribly necessary.)

Know this, as well: we aren't particular - please feel free to double-date-night it with us. We'll be the dude in 50's glasses and the tattooed chick with ponytails in Little 5.

Oh yeah. That's kind of half of everyone. So much for not wanting to be typical.


*Pictured: Stall #3, woman's (and I say this, tongue firmly in cheek) "rest" room at the Star Bar. Little is truly restful about a festering, damp pit with no hot water and one-hinged stall doors, but I do like the big poster and the graffiti. Happiness in small things, I guess.

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