Plane tickets from DC to Minneapolis are currently $164. I mention this because on Saturday night, for the price of flying my entire family to Minnesota, I went out to dinner.
Okay, Bump and I went out to dinner. And Lula would have to fly as a lap infant. But the comparison is still true.
We went with some marvelous folks. I had a fantastic babysitter (yay Anne!). The food was fabulous and the wines magnificent.
But you know what I did that no one else at the table did? I got sick. Yep, in the middle of a fancy-shmancy price of a plane ticket dinner, I became ill.
I’m pretty sure it wasn’t anything I ate there. I’m guessing it was something from lunch that decided all this beautifully prepared, elegantly presented, carefully wine-paired food had to go. We did eat lunch at the mall, after all.
Bump’s money is on me being shit-faced drunk. And while this is usually a winning guess, there are a couple of reasons why I don’t think it was true. (This time. For all the other times, it is totally the reason I’m horking in the half-bath.)
First, I didn’t feel drunk. While I’m sure that old chestnut about alcohol impairing your judgment has some nugget of truth, I’m usually the first to admit that I’m hammered.
Second, no one else at the table seemed even moderately buzzed. Can I be that much of a feeble lightweight? Other than a martini to begin the evening instead of the glass of wine others had, I didn’t radically out-drink anyone else. (Something I’m also usually guilty of, by the way. And I’m not counting the extra splash of that lovely oaky white that I asked for, even though the “extra splash” turned out to be a double pour.)
I am considering this dinner a last hurrah, because if Bump and I buy a new house - which we are going to have to do at some point soon-ish because we are fast outgrowing our affordable 2BR condo - we are never going to be able to eat out again. Ever.
So, is it possible that I’m a complete dumbass who inadvertently drank herself sick at the last fancy dinner out she will have until her kids are out of college? Or did I just ingest something unholy at the Cheesecake Factory in the Fair Oaks mall?
Nobody half-asses it like me.
5 comments:
Nope. I was pretty drunk too. I didn't barf, but seven glasses of wine (half pours or not) kicked my ass.
Oh, there are several houses for sale in my neighborhood. Then we can just barbeque. MUCH CHEAPER.
I'm sorry you got sick.
Have lots of fun in the Twin Cities though. You can always be sure that Auntly H will never out drink you : )
Sorry you got sick, but where'd you go to dinner?
Sarah: CRAP. That means I was probably drunk. Dammit.
Em: H won't outdrink me, but ElectricYoak probably will. And just drinking less than ElectricYoak is no guarantee I won't end up stupid.
Merseydotes: We ate at 2941, and it was awesome.
I was all set to blame the Cheesecake Factory. Then I read Sarah's comment. Sorry LHM; you might have trouble impressing all the businessmen in the airport bar this trip.
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