Friday, October 10, 2008

dry ice. chainsaws. ...

today was one of those "and then i wanna" days where, when chuck asked what i wanted to do, instead of curling into a ball with my sweatpants, rubbing them lovingly against my face and humming "separate lives" as i considered leaving the house, i actually had a plan. i had lots of plans.

1. retrieve car from parking ramp where i left it tuesday night and ignored its absense through thursday afternoon. typically, one can ease her way out of the ramp after 6 p.m. without paying. the hard-ass attendant who, for the sake of accuracy we'll call tubs, kindly leaves the arm erect when he clocks out.

we timed our exit a little too close to quitting time, unfortunately. tubs was just locking up shop when i came down the ramp. he gave me the universal sign for halt.

and there, outside the booth, without anything so scientific as a cash register, i talked him down to five bucks [saving myself a dollar fifty]. but being the unofficial transaction that it was, i'm pretty sure this five-spot went toward his first plate of chicken fingers at sneakers.

2. dinner at a restaurant.

3. the ship of ghouls. the william a. irvine undergoes a halloweenish makeover this time of year and i've never done the tour.

mostly it is a lot of coming around a corner to find an anemic college girl in her nightgown mumbling "help me find my dolly." at about the midpoint, an employee came up behind us. "let me go ahead of you," he said. "i don't want to ruin it for you with my walkie talkie going off." just before we went back into the bowels of the ship, he called down the steps. "we got people coming! start up the music!"

"you're showing your seams," i said.
did i mention chuck was wearing a glow in the dark shirt?

for the finale, up steps, open a door and wham! a gift shop. nothing scarier than a 17 dollar 'duluth' hoodie.

i screamed three times to be polite. but this really needed some dry ice or at least a chain saw.

3. i had to get some stuff at target, and we had time to kill before a movie.





chuck found hairy knuckle gorilla gloves that i think he was seriously considering using this winter for driving, until he realized the plastic would probably get hard in the cold. and, well, the gorilla hair hanging off of them is a little obnoxious.



4. we still had about an hour until the movie so we went to skyline lanes for a drink. actually, two. captain coke. it's been awhile.



question 1:
why do league bowlers bother with matching shirts? it's not like bowling is football and you need to discern your teammate from the opponent. and if you're confused about who is on your team, you can use a score sheet for reference.

question 2:
was that big catering tin of meatballs free for the taking? because i kind of wanted a plate load. but when i said something about "meatballs," chuck assumed i was talking about the college boys standing at the bar, so i never got a straight answer.

5. movie. to the woman in the bathroom who said to her friends "what did you think? because i thought it would be way better." i say: "maybe you should have gone to 'nights in rodanthe, you idiot. that movie was perfect!' "

and to the person who made this sign, i say: cloquet only has one 'u'


6. back into the loving legs of my sweatpants.

a few nights ago, chuck poured the whiskey into a special decanter i received after my grandpa smittley died. when my mom and her sisters were cleaning out his condo, my mom kept asking me what i wanted. i hate having *stuff* so i didn't take anything: except this decanter and some matching drinking glasses etched with the name of a resort. if anything in the world reminds me of the grandparents smittley, it would be the taste of olives and the smell of something from a decanter.

2 comments:

Whiskeymarie said...

Decanters are so much nicer than bottles, and they have an air of elegance to them.
We have a bunch filled with various things on our buffet in the dining room. Problem is, we never labeled anything which has resuled in a lot of confusion. We once spent about a half hour trying to decide if one decanter was Kahlua or Dark Rum.
We never really figured that one out.

All I wanted when my Grandma died was a 1970's Betty Crocker cookbook that she used, and my crazy gross aunt wouldn't give it to me.
You'll never regret taking something of your Grandpa's, no matter how "small" it seemed at the time.

Mach1 said...

I have had that exact same exchange with the ramp guys, though mine was the guy with the white beard. I am guessing the other one is the one you call Tubs.