Steak and Potatoes
It was a pretty non-eventful weekend, thank goodness. Got my hair cut, went out to dinner with some friends, saw a horror flick, delivered a pet turtle. Sounds like a lot, but it was mostly down-time, not having to worry about having to be somewhere or having to get anything done.
The hub and I had dinner Saturday night with some good friends of ours, JR and Dessa. Wonderful, down-to-earth, fun, easy-going folks, who are originally from a town less than 2-hours away from where I was born and raised through childhood in North Carolina. It's nice to have people who can identify with chores of picking up pinecones, and who can vouch for your stories of using the windshield scraper to remove pine pollen (instead of ice) from your car. We can laugh together and have fun, and, unlike most couples in our age group, don't have to worry about human children getting in the way of plans (JR and Des want kids at some point, but timing just hasn't been right so far--which works for the hub and myself). JR and I used to work for the same company, and Des does my hair, so we're all pretty well connected. He still works for that company, unfortunately. I almost feel like I deserted him, since I left almost 2 months ago to start my current job with the State. He's miserable (probably not as miserable as I was when I left, since he's not yet having thoughts of attaining firearms), and I often email him job-listings from CareerBuilder and other sites; when a company can't appreciate people who practically give their lives up for them, it's beyond time to go (time to go starts when you're willing to do so).
In any case, we went to dinner at a very crowded, very busy steakhouse in a nearby town. All was going well--instead of having to wait the estimated hour-and-a-half to get a table, JR hustled us into a table near the bar area less than 5-minutes after we walked in (no shit, the seats were still warm from the cattle who had been sitting there prior to us). Waitress was nice, appetizer rolls were good, (sadly, my whiskey-and-coke was on the weak side), and then came the ruckus of the evening. The guy who brought out our food, all of our plates on one giant tray that he held with one arm high above his head, hung around just long enough to go into a violent-twitching-full-body-Tourette's-syndrome tic. I looked at the hub, who really hasn't been exposed to many things of this nature, and he was about to fall out. Eyes as big as our baked potatoes and mouth slightly ajar, he asks quietly, "What in the hell was that?" Des and I answered, almost in unison, that he has Tourette's syndrome. But it was too late. JR and my hub were in awe, their eyes glued to the server's every move for the remainder of the night.
I don't think our curious husbands were entirely obvious. At least no more than any of the other patrons of the restaurant. I think even Des snuck a few stares, but I simply and uncomfortably averted my eyes, hoping the guys would do the same and have a little compassion. Unfortunately, my hub caught the one tic that actually had sound-effects, and sadly, it wasn't yelling out obscenities.
He barked like a dog. Not one bark, just to get it out of his system, but a rapid-fire succession of "Rar-rar-rar-rar-rar" with his head cocked over to one shoulder and his body stiff with spasm.
And my husband saw it.
After being together more than five years, he knows how sensitive I am to people (or animals)with special needs or defects of any kind. But this was too much for him to hold in. He crumbled in (thankfully) silent laughter, face flushing and eyes wetting, as he (again thankfully) discretely replayed for us what had taken place. Okay, as discretely as possible.
Our table had been erupting in laughter practically all night, as tales of spitballs and boogers and old coworkers unfolded. With a grace that is normally not possessed or displayed by my hub, he relayed our server's performance without anyone else catching on--what with the dull roar of the crowded restaurant and the clanging of glasses at the bar, I was somehow saved the humiliation that normally would have been my fate. And, yes, I admit, I laughed a bit as well--not at the expense of our server, but at the performance of my hub, who has been known to be incredibly shy and reserved at times. Wrong--maybe; funny--yes.
Getting ready for work this Monday morning, the hub and I have the news on while we're eating our breakfast and drinking coffee. Apparently there was a murder over the weekend in one of the towns outlying Kansas City. The body was found by the dumpsters, and the news crew was interviewing some of the residents of the apartment complex to get a feeling for the situation. Lo and behold, who was the resident they interviewed and showed on this morning's news?
You guessed it, the Tourette's syndrome Server from our restaurant Saturday night. Tics and all, right there on camera.
Coincidence--maybe; funny--absolutely.
The hub and I had dinner Saturday night with some good friends of ours, JR and Dessa. Wonderful, down-to-earth, fun, easy-going folks, who are originally from a town less than 2-hours away from where I was born and raised through childhood in North Carolina. It's nice to have people who can identify with chores of picking up pinecones, and who can vouch for your stories of using the windshield scraper to remove pine pollen (instead of ice) from your car. We can laugh together and have fun, and, unlike most couples in our age group, don't have to worry about human children getting in the way of plans (JR and Des want kids at some point, but timing just hasn't been right so far--which works for the hub and myself). JR and I used to work for the same company, and Des does my hair, so we're all pretty well connected. He still works for that company, unfortunately. I almost feel like I deserted him, since I left almost 2 months ago to start my current job with the State. He's miserable (probably not as miserable as I was when I left, since he's not yet having thoughts of attaining firearms), and I often email him job-listings from CareerBuilder and other sites; when a company can't appreciate people who practically give their lives up for them, it's beyond time to go (time to go starts when you're willing to do so).
In any case, we went to dinner at a very crowded, very busy steakhouse in a nearby town. All was going well--instead of having to wait the estimated hour-and-a-half to get a table, JR hustled us into a table near the bar area less than 5-minutes after we walked in (no shit, the seats were still warm from the cattle who had been sitting there prior to us). Waitress was nice, appetizer rolls were good, (sadly, my whiskey-and-coke was on the weak side), and then came the ruckus of the evening. The guy who brought out our food, all of our plates on one giant tray that he held with one arm high above his head, hung around just long enough to go into a violent-twitching-full-body-Tourette's-syndrome tic. I looked at the hub, who really hasn't been exposed to many things of this nature, and he was about to fall out. Eyes as big as our baked potatoes and mouth slightly ajar, he asks quietly, "What in the hell was that?" Des and I answered, almost in unison, that he has Tourette's syndrome. But it was too late. JR and my hub were in awe, their eyes glued to the server's every move for the remainder of the night.
I don't think our curious husbands were entirely obvious. At least no more than any of the other patrons of the restaurant. I think even Des snuck a few stares, but I simply and uncomfortably averted my eyes, hoping the guys would do the same and have a little compassion. Unfortunately, my hub caught the one tic that actually had sound-effects, and sadly, it wasn't yelling out obscenities.
He barked like a dog. Not one bark, just to get it out of his system, but a rapid-fire succession of "Rar-rar-rar-rar-rar" with his head cocked over to one shoulder and his body stiff with spasm.
And my husband saw it.
After being together more than five years, he knows how sensitive I am to people (or animals)with special needs or defects of any kind. But this was too much for him to hold in. He crumbled in (thankfully) silent laughter, face flushing and eyes wetting, as he (again thankfully) discretely replayed for us what had taken place. Okay, as discretely as possible.
Our table had been erupting in laughter practically all night, as tales of spitballs and boogers and old coworkers unfolded. With a grace that is normally not possessed or displayed by my hub, he relayed our server's performance without anyone else catching on--what with the dull roar of the crowded restaurant and the clanging of glasses at the bar, I was somehow saved the humiliation that normally would have been my fate. And, yes, I admit, I laughed a bit as well--not at the expense of our server, but at the performance of my hub, who has been known to be incredibly shy and reserved at times. Wrong--maybe; funny--yes.
Getting ready for work this Monday morning, the hub and I have the news on while we're eating our breakfast and drinking coffee. Apparently there was a murder over the weekend in one of the towns outlying Kansas City. The body was found by the dumpsters, and the news crew was interviewing some of the residents of the apartment complex to get a feeling for the situation. Lo and behold, who was the resident they interviewed and showed on this morning's news?
You guessed it, the Tourette's syndrome Server from our restaurant Saturday night. Tics and all, right there on camera.
Coincidence--maybe; funny--absolutely.
posted by Dora Maar at 7:35 AM
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