Some Words...

Well, my sig. other and I had our date Saturday night and although it didn't turn out quite like we planned I must say it was actually quite a bit of fun.

You know you are getting old when you make plans several weeks ahead of time to go on a date and when the time finally arrives you both look at each other and say...well, do you still want to go out? But we did, go out that is, despite our tiredness, despite the fact that we had to pay a babysitter $10 bucks an hour, we went - kicking and screaming. We headed up to the Riveria theatre about two hours before the concert thinking we'll grab dinner first and then stand in line waiting for the doors to open. So we drive past the theatre and there's a line of people stretched down the block and suddenly I feel like I'm 50 and about to crash a high school prom. We look a each other with the same skeptical frown pasted across our face. "Wow, we have to wait in that line," I asked? "We have to wait in that line if we want to get towards the front of the stage," he responds. It's GA - general admission and now I'm regretting my choice of musical talent to pay my homage too. Why couldn't I have picked a nice jazz concert where people actually get to sit down instead of standing in a large clearing, jumping up and down, hoping to catch a glimpse of the tiny figurine on the stage? What the hell was I thinking, that I was eighteen? So anyway...we look for parking and much to my surprise we score a prime spot (free to boot) about a half block away. My spirits start to rise as we decide that we won't wait in that line, we'll wait for the doors to open and cram ourselves in the back where maybe we'll catch a glimpse of James Blunt himself. It all sounded good - in theory, forgetting of course that I'm a whopping 5'3 and the only thing I was likely to catch a glimpse of was the wide arse standing in front of me. This was becoming one of those times that I hated being short. My sig other is 6'3 so he has no trouble seeing over half the population so he really didn't understand my frustration. We park the car and start to walk towards the theatre and decide that we'll eat at the grungy little cafe nestled next to it instead. We have roughly 2 hours before the doors open so that's plenty of time to eat something completely unhealthy. Just as we are about to open the door to the cafe we see a sign that states, "Cash Only." What the hell kind of restaurant only takes cash? We realize we have about twenty bucks between us so we decided to run across the street to the ATM machine and grab some more cash. Jokingly I mention that we should just 'scalp' our tickets and head out to something more suitable for a couple of old timers. As I'm standing in front of the ATM trying desperately to remember my pin number I hear this voice behind me, "Got any tickets to sell." Huh, you talking to me? Well...as a matter of fact....ok, that's not right is it? We're supposed to be going to a concert right? We look at each other, nod in agreement, "Well I have two tickets to sell." "Yeah, how much," the nicely dressed hoodlum replies? Now my brain starts calculating, how much would be enough to erase the guilt I'll feel for selling our 'pre-planned' date? "175 bucks," I exclaim. "Whoa..that's a lot of dough," said hoodlum replies. "Well, if you want to see James the man you have to pay," I respond. "How about $150," he replies. "How about $170," I demand. I'm thinking to myself that this sort of activity is strictly prohibited and I'm breaking the law..then I remember I'm not a big fan of rules and I tend to like a bit of 'danger' so I continue with my banter. "How about $165," Mr. Hoodlum asks. "How about $175," I quickly respond. "Ok," he says as he pulls out the cash. As I'm taking it from his hand he realizes I've just screwed him royally. I actually paid $50 for those tickets on ebay but the concert is sold out and obviously he really wanted to get those tickets so he could sell them to some other unsuspecting sucker. On that day - I was no sucker, a criminal maybe...but definitely not a broke one. As I'm tucking the cash inside my back pocket I start to wonder if I've really pissed off sig. other...but he looks at me with and we both start laughing. "So now what," I ask. "How about dinner - at a real restaurant that takes credit cards and a couple of drinks at a local watering hole." "Sounds perfect," I exclaim. There happens to be a Borders Books across the street so we both decide to pop in there and buy a couple of new books for our daughter. As we're standing there trying to decide between Baby Einstein and Elmo this guy taps me on the shoulder, "excuse me, can you tell me what sort of book a 3-year old girl might like." As I begin to explain that girls prefer books with fairies and princesses I realize that I recognize this guys face. "Well....James, I say you should buy this My Little Pony book, any little girl would love it." "Hey thanks...my niece is really going to like this," he responds. My sig. other is dumbfounded at my ability to remain calm and collected and not even attempt to ask for an autograph. As we're standing in line waiting to pay James asks me if we'd like tickets to his concert...uh oh! "Well actually, we had tickets but now we don't." "We sort of sold them about ten minutes ago." He smiles and responds, "how much did you get?" "Enough," I reply. And as we're walking out the door I turn to look at the man I thought was going to make this night special and then I grabbed the hand of the man that already had.

P.S....we did have sex and wine...exactly in that order.

Sometimes it's so good to be old.