While most of the more romantic types might finish the headline with a swoopy, Harlequin Romance kind of rose petal filled bathtub with candles burning and dripping all over the sides of the tub, Michael Bolton music wafting through the smoke and incense infused air, and a slightly chilled bottle of the second cheapest bottle of champagne (actually sparkling wine) that New York State proudly offers, things are done just a bit differently at this house. And so, when I spied this gem in the big beer cooler at Wegmans yesterday, I knew my quest for the perfect evening and means of celebration were all wrapped together in this one little can. Clam juice, tomato juice, and watered down beer all rolled into one? Surely the gods are looking down upon us all.
On a more serious note, today does indeed mark the 15th year of unabated bliss here, and while I will not divulge details (personal information, is, after all, just that), if you do happen to see the missus or myself today, you may congratulate either one of us, and by that I mean rid your wallets of those unseemly dollar bills and hand them over immediately so we can get vittles at a place nicer than KFC.
And if you're thinking I am a total cad and behaving a bit cavalier, and how dare I and I should have at least made reservations somewhere, I defer to the demands of real life. As for a restaurant, provide your recommendation and why in the comments section, and if I use your suggestion, well, I'll send a can of Chelada your way. Second, with the reunion gig of the Press Tones around 48 hours away, any chance of dinner is overtaken by an imminent practice, and a performance the next night. Paltry excuses for the avoidance of a showering of love, but I'm not the best planner in the world. So on a makeup date, where would you go for a dinner, and why? And no, the place cannot have a drive through.
In the meantime, I have to hustle to get some flowers bundled together and ice some cupcakes. In closing, Fred and the boys said it best.