Fall, food and evil bitches trying to ruin my good time

Everyday I leave work and see this in the parking lot. It's nice. After about a week of seeing this everyday it occurred to me to take a picture of it, since it'll just be a bunch of sticks soon and I'll be wishing I had not been so lazy to take the camera out of my purse on the way to the car.

Here's another shot for good measure.



You know what this kind of scene makes me want to do? Drink. But in a nice way. Like a take the hubby out for cocktails and a multi-course Greek meal way. And since I'm not in the business of denying my own whims, we went to dinner.

Oh and if it wasn't just exactly what I had in mind.

(Forgive the darkness, they turned the lights down for dinner...)
Some feta and olives...

Some nice zucchini fritters with a fancy Greek name I don't remember...

An excellent lamb shank with orzo...

A skewer-free Souvlaki (beneath Hubby's hungry face)...

And don't worry, there were drinks. And then some crunchy Greek-style coffee that confirmed for me why Italians are the better known coffee folks. And then a waddling/shuffling movement as we detached ourselves from the table. And then some evil stares from the hag sitting next to us who was clearly not having as much fun as we were. And then some inappropriate groping on the sidewalk after hubby walked me to my car (we met at the restaurant after work).

You know, now that I think about it, it is possible that we looked like two adulterers having a lewd dinner out unbeknownst to our spouses. Perhaps that is why Hagitha was giving us the not so nice looks throughout our dinner. We just could not have looked like a married couple out for dinner. No, no. We were enjoying ourselves a bit too much for that.

This seems to be an annoying recurring theme lately. That "people who think that as soon as you get married the fun is over" theme. It was certainly the theme at Hagitha's table. I overheard her husbeast ranting about some ridiculous business principle for the majority of their meal while she sat quietly and pickled herself with the house Cabernet. While at our table we were pickling ourselves with gin and whiskey and discussing, at length, where ever should we take our bodies skiing this winter.

Whoever instated that No Fun is to be Had After Marriage is retarded. Granted, we've only been hitched for two years, but if I'm drinking house Cabernet at the age of 50 and giving dirty looks to the drunk ski-lusting couple at the opposite table, feel free to cart me off to the far pasture and put me down.

Cheers!