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I worked out for over an hour, and sat down to rest for a bit on the couch. When I got up again I noticed I was shaking, which was solved by a turkey sandwich. Best damned sandwich I ever et.
I am grateful for the lilac-scented bubble bath I'm about to take.
I was going to do housework yesterday after work, and I lamed out. I was going to do it today before we go out, and I lamed out. I'm betting I'm not going to want to do it tomorrow either.
Wonderbread. Heh.
"Oh yes it's ladies night
And the feeling's right
Oh yes it's ladies night
Oh what a night."
-- Kool and the Gang - "Ladies Night"
2003 - No entry.
2002 - Endless possibilities.
2001 - Changes in latitude.
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July 31, 2004
Wonderbread
Some of the best nights I've ever had are the nights where Calvin and I leave the house not knowing what we're up to, and just wind up wherever we wind up. Last night was one of those nights, and we had so. much. fun. Of course, when we started out we didn't realize it was going to end up that way. We were just bored out of our minds, and Calvin was starting to get in a bad mood because of it. I was shooting pool and playing darts by myself, and Marie and her posse had left for the evening. Calvin was surfing through our CD collection, blasting various songs, which is what he does when he's bored and verging on grumpy.
Finally he stood up and announced, "I'm going for a ride." I asked if I could come, which is relevant because the motorcycle is Calvin's release, and sometimes he just wants to get out and ride hard and come home in an improved mood. He doesn't ride as hard with me on the back. So I ask, because I don't know if he wants to ride for the sake of riding, or if he wants to ride hard. He grunted, "I don't care," so I pulled my hair back and got myself ready to go.
This state is still friggin' hot at 8:00 at night, so Calvin and I dressed light enough for the weather, but covered enough for safety. No riding in cut-offs and flip-flops for us! I kind of make a game of guessing where Calvin is going to go, if we haven't talked about it beforehand. Conversation while riding is difficult at best, so we've come up with a series of squeezes and leg-pats to communicate pertinent things. Anyway, we turned left out of the neighborhood, and I started guessing where we'd go. Marie had mentioned earlier in the evening that she and the boys were going to Firebird Raceway - Friday nights are "Run What You Brung". Calvin headed us in that direction, but when we drove by it didn't look like there was much going on.
He gave it a pass, and headed out to the freeway. Riding on the freeway on the motorcycle is a nervous experience - there's no way to keep still on the bike, the wind buffets you around with varying degrees of severity. So I just tuck up behind Calvin and keep my profile low against his back, and any movement is made veeerrry slowly. Popping my head around Calvin's back, or moving my arm out to the side, would prove disastrous at speed. I made a bet with myself, and won as we found ourselves headed in the direction of Mill Avenue. Slowing at one point, Calvin made the universal sign for "Drink?", holding an imaginary beverage and tipping it toward his helmet. I patted his leg in agreement, and we pulled into the parking lot at Flip-Flops. Unfortunately, we couldn't find parking that would enable us to see the bike from the patio, so we pulled out again.
This time we headed up Scottsdale Road, and after a couple of miles I made another guess at our destination. Sure enough, Calvin slowed and pulled into Flicka's Baja Cantina. It's a very casual place, with rough tables and stools, and a very large patio out front. It also sports a RADICAL aquarium with puffer fish and lion fish and eels. The drinks and food are cheap, the music is good, and there's usually some good eye-candy wandering around. The place was packed, but riding a motorcycle greatly reduces parking difficulties. It's simple to pull up right next to the building at the front entrance, putting the motorcycle safe in front of the watching eyes of the bouncer. I jammed the required baseball cap on my head to hide the helmet hair, and we walked inside with helmets in hand. As luck would have it, there was one table left, which we quickly claimed. We ordered a couple of Coronas and people-watched for a bit.
After a few minutes, Calvin noticed some activity up front by the stage. Four guys in seventies get-up with BIG HAIR wigs took the stage, the banner behind them announcing their band's name - "Wonderbread". Calvin and I grinned at each other, anticipating a 70's cover band. They started off with "Brick House", which got the crowd going, but then they immediately followed that with 2Pac and Dr. Dre's "California Love". Calvin and I raised our eyebrows at their play list. "Boogie Shoes" was followed by Eminem's "Lose Yourself". "Ladies Night" was followed by "Get Low" by Lil' Jon and the East Size Boyz. "Le Freak" was followed by Eminem's "Real Slim Shady". We were rolling every time the song changed, and stayed and listened to two sets, just wondering what they were going to play next. We did the whole at-the-table dancing thing, knocking back the Coronas and singing along. And you've GOT to know that Calvin's having a good time when he sings along.
Come to find out, Wonderbread plays at Flicka's every Friday night, so we weren't too sorry about leaving before their last set. We left at about 11:30 to head back home. I told Calvin to take it easy since I was rather buzzed, and when he asked me if I wanted to take the surface streets or the freeway home, I voted for the surface streets. But Calvin pulled into the turn lane for the freeway anyway, and when I tapped his arm, he shouted, "I gotta pee!" Heh. So I tucked up behind him again, and he'd reach down and smack my leg to tell me when he was going to pour on the speed. He'd wait to feel my arms and legs tighten around him, then he'd roll it on. We made it home in record time, although I did rather disapprovingly comment to him when we were back in the garage, "We were doing 107 on the off-ramp." Calvin snickered, and then bragged about it to Marie. Sometimes, we are SO not role models.
Tonight we're meeting friends at Sugar Daddy's, from there going on to Martini Ranch. This will be in celebration of my 30th birthday, so I anticipate having a hangover tomorrow. I just have to keep repeating to myself... "One drink, one glass of water. One drink, one glass of water." Plus a piece of bread and a handful of Advil before I go to sleep. I told Heather I'd probably play drunken phonesies with her at 2:00 a.m., too. Because nothing says love like calling your girlfriend from another time zone and waking her up to yell, "I love you, man!"
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