So if you're ever at a bar for the night by yourself and you snag a hot seat, how do you go to the bar for more drinks and/or hit the loo without losing your seat? That always bothered me.
Like right now, not worried about losing the seat, but I'm alone at the Saucer and normally I would never leave my drink unattended (one very bad lesson is way more than enough, even though I don't think I left my drink unattended on that occasion, but anyhoo) though I think 2pm in Addison (actually wait...Addison is probably Rufie central, come to think of it)...ok, 2pm is probably an ok time of day. Am I brave enough to leave my bag (taking my wallet) and laptop to run to the potty? 'Cause I really need to use it, you know?
These issues plagued me as a single girl, and now even as a married girl who frequently goes out and about by myself, they still do. Oh well.
I can only have faith in paranoia. As Dante once said in Clerks, "People see money on the counter and no one around? They think they're bein' watched."
Hooray! The computer's still here.
Very productive day. Had my first voice lesson, which was great. I'm so thrilled to be doing it again, as it means having a fun, distracting hobby far removed from work that makes me feel as if I have a tiny bit more of a life. Plus it keeps me from sleeping in too late on Saturdays.
Then I drove to downtown Dallas to drop off my free-standing antique fan that hasn't worked properly since someone (not a cat, actually!) knocked it over...the blades just need straightening. But today provided a little glimpse into a very strange world...the fan shop is a positive fan shrine, for one thing. Secondly, there were people there before and after me. The guys before me were great. While picking up a 60s-era box fan, I listened to them shoot the shit about fans:
The Customer: "So...those brass Westinghouses over there...where could you maybe pick up one?"
The Owner: "Not sure...[insert lots of detail about how it obtained that brass color]. But that one there is maybe 1910? 1915?"
TC: "That would have been my guess."
And here it is! But wtf? I mean, sure, the fan is wicked cute and all, but talk about a fucking niche. It was weird. And I took him out to my car for the fan, since I'll be damned if I'm lifting that thing more than necessary. Even my saying, "It's not that big, but it's quite heavy," had him speculating as to what it could be. "Ah, an Emerson!" was the final call.
Whatever you say, friend. Just please fix it well.
Then I hit Addison to have my car detailed so Hans knows he's loved (they shampooed the carpets and got stains up I had no idea could ever be removed...and no, they weren't even anything interesting. Pervert.) Holy BALLS was everyone and their dog getting their car washed yesterday. And I got his oil changed because I should have done that about, oh, two months ago...
I was supposed to go out for a friend's birthday party last night but because I'm a borderline recluse I opted out and made incredibly disgusting (read: heavenly) cheese fries and watched Jack Bauer try to save the world again. So I spent less money and didn't have to pretend I like people! Score!