Because my husband is so incredibly crazy about me-
And because he was rapidly running out of time for a so-called February date (for the newcomers to this date thing, catch up on the whole bizness here)-
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| You can tell I’m on a date. I am wearing a tie. |
He asked me out this past Tuesday for a wild evening of bowling and deep conversation in a dive bar-like atmosphere. I accepted, even though I’m not a “bowler,” overmuch. Except. Our first stop- Waveland Bowl- was booked up solid because “Uh, it’s league night?” Our second stop- Lincoln Lanes, the one actually closer to our house (P.J. had a plan. I was not privy to it, but he had a plan)- was also booked up for the following hour, and did we want to wait? And since we had told Angie (thanks, Angie!) that we’d only be gone for an hour-ish (livin’ LARGE), we opted for beerz and poolz.
Seriously, there is not much difference between Bowling Date and Pool Playin’ Date, Tuesday Night Date-wise. Especially if both parties are wearing hoodies and looking vaguely like unwashed teenagers.
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| Sharkz. |
P.J. ran half the table as I watched and casually drank my beer- Okay, it was cider, I drank an imported cider. (I am the worst dive bar-goer ever.) Then, as I so often do with a goodly part of a drink in me, I became a pool shark. (Hear that, Ma? I learned from the best.) And I schooled him. Kinda slowly. But I won.
And then he promptly beat in the next game, but since I was still buzzing from my fierce win (and my one imported cider), I graciously congratulated him. And then it was time to go home because a) our neighbor is pregnant and shouldn’t have to be out late because her friends are bowling/playing pool, b) Chicago was in the middle of a swirling snowstorm, and c) it was a Tuesday.
But obviously there was time to get milkshakes at Susie’s Drive-In, the best 24/7 milkshake emporium in the history of ever (in a rather scary looking shack-like place); coconut for me, caramel cappuccino for Peej, both in styrofoam cups as big as our faces.
There was also time to sing Whatta Man alongside Salt n’ Pepa on the drive back down Montrose.
And there was just enough time to finish up said milkshakes on our living room couch- holding hands, feeling lovey…
…And simultaneously checking our mobile Facebook accounts.
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