Okay, So 21 Was 11 Years Ago

For the past week-ish, my BFF and I have been making plans because LUCKY girl, her husband and kids were away this weekend and she was totally kicking it Bachelorette style (that is, if you consider Bachelorette style wearing your husband’s shirt and wishing he were home! They’re still like newlyweds so it’s kinda cute. Kinda. Me? I’d totally have been standing on my living room sofa doing a little dance… but… that’s me).

We picked dinner based on drinks and dessert – the original plan was for margaritas and brownie sundaes, so we planned to go to On The Border for dinner, drinks and much sugar. I met her at her house after stopping at Starbucks for a cappuccino (with an EXTRA SHOT please) and jamming to my iPod all the way there. Yesterday, after taking the kids through the McD’s drive thru, the girls got Madagascar 2 toys (Gloria, AGAIN), which put the old Laura Brannigan “Gloria” song in my head… which means that I was singing it all day (And OH YEAH, I think I have the alias that you’ve been living under). Which means that I had to go download it from iTunes before heading out. Which means, aw yeah, I was listening to “Gloria” on the way to her house.

After some chatty-chat, we headed to the restaurant and found out that we had a FORTY FIVE minute wait. That sucked, but it’s fun to talk and people watch. I knew at that point though that I’d be so hungry, I’d do some serious damage to chips and salsa. Was I wrong? Unfortunately, no.

We got to our table finally and she ordered a margarita and I opted instead for a mojito. But then our waitress committed the cardinal sin: She didn’t card us. Y’know, I realize that I haven’t been able to pass for 21 for awhile, but would it have killed her to appeal to our vanity? Short answer: NO. Which is why even after dinner, even after the fantabulous dessert, even after I had paid my bill, it had still stuck in my head. So I left her a note.

Collage – see my BFF in the top left – oh yeah, she’s holding our oh-so-cool little pager dealy bob. You know, the one that isn’t blinking with pretty lights telling us our table was ready. Dang. Waiting sucks. Then, chips, sugar and my love note to our waitress.