Dates

One of the many remarkable things that happens because Grammie lives with us is late night dates. A few times a week, when Biddy is in bed (undoubtedly with her arms tucked under her chest and her booty in the air) AP and I take the monitor downstairs to Grammie and sneak out for a date. Another remarkable thing that happens is fresh biscuits on Monday mornings. Ummmm biscuits.

Anyway, the dates don't have to be fancy. We just get coffee or ice cream and catch up. Earlier this week we saw Harry Potter, it was not very good. What was my favorite book of the series turned out to be the worst movie.

Tonight we planned on going to Awakenings and getting some coffee or wine (I love that they have both). As we approached the door AP's eyes get wide. He states, "We're not going in there." I pause at the door to asses the situation. There is a man with slick black hair and a short silk scarf playing what appears to be Jazz Flute. It is just as creepy as Anchorman dipects. The audience is all completely still and silent staring at the Jazz floutest. Their emaciated forms are wearing similar eurosheek gittups. And since the stage is on the same wall as the front door they must have all seen the two of us pause, take it all in, and swiftly walk away. I can only imagine their disgust with our Gap clothing and lack of musical enlightenment.

We went to Tellers instead and had a great date.