Lumpyhead's Dad and the Wildly Flailing Lipstick

Bump and I went out on a real date last night: dinner and a movie.

Flick: Indiana Jones.
Verdict: Lived up to the expense and effort, but just barely. The alma mater campus shots were worth the price of admission, but the movie was satisfactorily mediocre overall. At least the previews were better than the ones before SATC. (Nothing smacks you across the face with the YOU ARE NOT OUR TARGET AUDIENCE message like a trailer for The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2. I was all "I thought this movie came out a long time ago" only to come to the horrifying realization that it was a sequel.) Short-term goal: I want to see Hancock before I deliver.
Weird Thing: I made Bump move because the guy next to me in our first seats had terrible BO. This was not "a little more deodorant next time, Sparky" BO, this was "have you showered AT ALL this weekend, Dude?" BO.

Afterward we wandered around Old Town and found a surprisingly good restaurant, which made us feel adventurous and triumphant and astoundingly unhip.

We used to do this kind of thing all the time. Now if we watch two of our netflix a month it represents some sort of cinematic orgy.

And dinner out? In an untried restaurant without two highchairs and the customary "sorry about the mess" percentage tip? Unheard of.

But we did it.*

Restaurant: Jackson 20.
Verdict: So good I want to go back tonight.
Weird Thing: This woman at the table next to us kept gesticulating wildly with her lipstick. With her OPEN lipstick. I started ignoring Bump just to watch her. She was all over with that thing - up and down her face, around her head - I was sure she was going to write on herself, and I didn't want to miss it when she did. At one point she actually hit herself in the hair with it. I couldn't believe her tablemates were letting her lipstick fly around all crazy like that.

Bump started watching her too, in the mirror behind me. We were both transfixed by Flailing Lipstick Lady. The more we watched her, I realized her lipstick had something on it. A clump of hair, maybe? A result of all her flailing? If she held the lipstick at a certain angle, you could see something clinging to it.

After a good five minutes of staring, I figured out that her "lipstick" was actually a cleverly disguised fan. It was cute - and more discreet, I suppose, than most of those hand-held purse-sized fans - but is broadcasting "I'm having a hotflash" by flinging around a lipstick really better than holding a little fan?


*For a mere $250. Babysitter: $80. Pizza for the kids and sitter: $20. Movie tickets: $21. Dinner: $125. (Hey, you know what? Dinner costs a lot less when one of you drinks responsibly and the other isn't having her usual three cocktails.)