Bar Happy

Tonight DH and I went to a bar to celebrate with our youngest son and his girlfriend. It was her 21st birthday and she was wanting to celebrate with family and friends in a small town bar about 45 miles from our home, but very close to her hometown.

First we had to find it. Not an easy task in the dark, but seeing as the town population is about 200 and the bar was the one thing in town lit up with cars and Harley’s sitting outside, it was a pretty good guess that this was the place.

Small towns are funny. You walk in, and immediately all conversation stops and all heads turn toward the door to see who is coming in. If they know you, loud whoops of recognition fill the air. If they don’t, the ‘stare-down’ begins until you either state your business, find the people you came to see, or leave. On first glance, the people we were looking for weren’t there – but the car was outside. Come to find out they were in a back room where (thank goodness) we found them quickly.

Once word spreads through the local crowd that you are with someone they know, you become one of the bunch and suddenly find yourself hugged, kissed, and back-slapped to death. Oh, and did I remember to mention the slopped beer, chewing tobacco spit, cigarette smoke and fried food odors that all immediately saturate every pore of your skin meaning when you get home, before you will touch one thing in the house (God forbid the BED!) you will be standing under a scalding hot shower – for the second time today.

All in all, we had a great time. DH had previously met the girlfriends’ parents and many of the other relatives and friends in the bar at the race track. For me, it was a meet and greet. I found a couple of things interesting. One, my YS made the comment to the girlfriends’ brother when speaking about me: If you sit down and talk to her, pretty soon you realize how much alike Mom and (insert girlfriend’s name) are. Allrighty then! My youngest daughter thinks her fiance’ is just like my DH, and now my youngest son is saying his girlfriend is just like me. Hmmm… For all you analysts out there – is this a good thing, or a bad thing?

The second interesting thing I found was that the entire time my DH and the girlfriends’ dad were sitting across the table from me (a very large round table), every time I looked over at them the dad was staring at my chest. This was rather disconcerting. I mean, I had just MET the man, and I was chatting away with his wife, his sister, and his daughter… ahem! What’s up? I asked DH later and he said he’d noticed it too, now that I mention it. I was curious about that since DH has been known to be a bit jealous and he never thought much about it? Hmmm… I asked him what was going on and he said, “Well, you’ve got that thing under your blouse kind of drawing attention to them”. You mean a BRA? I wear one every day of my life. I am not built not to wear one. Men.

At any rate, I was the good designated driver and watched the people around me get shit-faced, knowing I was going to feel better than they were going to tomorrow. All in all a good time. Fun people.

In Another Universe

…far, far away… are my sent E-MAILS.

Does it matter? YES. Am I e-mailing someone important? YES. Is this work-related. YES. Is it time-sensitive? YES. YES. YES. Am I happy. NO.

Am I impressed when I call the internet provider and I find out a.) I’m getting him out of the shower and b.) he knows my voice without me even saying my name. <sigh> No.

I suspected a long time ago that this internet provider was kind of a ‘mom and pop’ operation. Every time I called, I got the same person and the same tech rep called me back (when he remembered to call me back). I didn’t have to guess what state I was calling, or from what state he was calling me back. I can probably drive to the house. I’m suspicious this company is being run out of a basement somewhere between here and OZ.

Him: I think there is a problem with a server

Me: Is it holding my out-bound e-mails again?

Him: I don’t know

Me: Can you check?

Him: I’m going to re-set the server over the weekend while you’re gone

Me: Where am I going? We work on the weekend this time of year. All weekend.

Him: Oh.

I’m not sure if this means he’s going to fix it, or if I’ll just have to wait until I’m gone for it to magically repair itself. I’ll be gone tonight from 6 until 7 tomorrow morning. Do you hear that, tech support?