But the pendulum is swinging back to the good side today.
First of all, last night, I was sick of hanging out in the house, and wanted to get out and do something. Plus, I was hungry. The ironic thing is that I didn't even *think* to go play in a poker tournament, which is usually my fallback position whenever I'm bored. Normally, my natural laziness overcomes my hunger, and I just skip the eating dinner part and figure Oh well, I can go into work early tomorrow and eat before my shift, and that usually settles the matter. But then I realized that I wouldn't be working today--the poker room is about as dead as a Hummer dealership on the day gas hit four bucks a gallon.
I considered going down to the casino and eating in one of the nicer restaurants, then maybe finding my way to the slot machines in a certain someone's section, but I thought that would be kinda lame. First of all, I hate-hate-hate being in the casino on my day off. Second of all, I don't play slots. And third of all, I thought it would be the wrong move at this point. I mean, yeah, I kinda like this gal, but really, what good would it do me? A man's got to know his limitations, and after that whole Kimmy episode, I'm all too aware of those limitations.
So I scrapped that idea...
Instead, I decided to haul my ass over to Summerlin and have dinner at Chicago Brewing Company. I grabbed my still-unread August issue of Poker Pro magazine, found my car keys, and headed for the door. Sitting on the table at the base of the stairs was my first box from Amazon, which contained three books I'd ordered; the Full Tilt Poker Strategy Guide-Tournament Edition, It's Never Too Late To Get Rich, and The Best Travel Writing of 2008.
So I grabbed the travel writing book and headed out.
It's about a half-hour's drive out to CBC on the west side, but traffic was light at that late hour. The restaurant is open 24 hours, and I was tempted to sit out on the patio and eat since it was such a nice night outside, but I wanted to do some reading, so I opted for the empty dining room.
I knew before I got there what I was going to have--a plate of calamari, a bowl of French onion soup, and a half-order of those amazing garlic knots. The waitress also gave me the rundown on their beer specials, and they still have that awesome Blueberry-Vanilla wheat beer, plus the Belgian Saison, but now they also offered a light Peach beer.
That sounded excellent, so I ordered a glass of that. My calamari showed up just a few minutes later, and as much as I wanted to sit and read, I was drawn in to watching the Olympics on the big screen. I've kind of been doing a personal Olympic boycott for the past several years, just because the coverage on NBC is so bad. And for the most part, all those 'compelling' stories are pretty much the same year after year. Yeah, athlete trained hard and sacrificed, blah blah blah... Maybe I'm just cynical, but I'm just not into it.
Besides, the ONE thing I wanted to see, Michael Phelps getting his 8th gold medal, wasn't shown live. Nope, I tuned in only to have to sit through the frickin' women's marathon that nobody cared about. Brilliant programming decision at NBC, once again.
So that's why I wasn't into the Olympics. But I had to admit, watching the track events was quite entertaining, and it quelled my cynicism for several hours. Besides, if you can't enjoy stuff like this,
well then, I have to question your patriotism.
Actually, it was just the men's events I was watching, but hey, you liked those pictures, admit it.
Anyhow, the peach beer was excellent--very crisp and refreshing, and the calamari was just as good as it's always been. Once the first course was gone, I decided to go with a glass of the Belgian Saison beer--it's a bit heavier and spicier, and honestly, I didn't think a peach-flavored beer would go so well with all of the onions and garlic I was about to consume.
The onion soup was very good, but not great. It was thoroughly enjoyable, but compared to some of the other versions I've had around town, it was somewhat pedestrian. It didn't have that zip that I'm used to, and the cheese melted on top was just plain old Swiss, not the more upscale Gruyere. But that didn't stop me from eating every last drop, minus of course those few that found their way to the front of my shirt.
The garlic knots were oh-my-god good, as expected, and I even took the time to send Lars a text message that said Mmmm... Garlic donuts... I'm sure he appreciated it.
I lingered over my dinner, enjoying the good food, the thrill of victory, and small talk with the bored waitress (I was her only table). Before I finished, I ordered a small pepperoni & mushroom pizza to go, which I'm eating as I type this.
Once I got home, I just cleared some space on my DVR, watching the season finale of In Plain Sight (a great show, by the way), and Anthony Bourdain in Puerto Rico. His trip was a bit different than mine, although he seemed to capture the essence of the island perfectly. He may have sampled more local cuisine that I did, but he never got a tattoo in the back room of a dingy bootleg record store while sitting in an old dentist's chair, by a guy who spoke absolutely *no* English, either. That place certainly wasn't listed in the Lonely Planet guide, I'm sure.
Anyhow, I went to bed sometime around 2:00 am, unafraid of having my phone ring. I knew I wasn't gonna get called in. I could almost guarantee that are more angels dancing on the head of a pin than there were poker players in our room at 3:00 am. So I thoroughly enjoyed my full-night's sleep.
I set my alarm for 9:00 am this morning, why, I don't know. Yeah, I've got stuff to do, but nothing beats lying around in bed like a sloth on your day off. Once it woke me up, I turned it off and slept for another hour or so, enjoying the cool breeze of the ceiling fan and the knowledge that the day was mine.
I finally crawled out of bed and some point and got started on my day. The priority for the day was to head over to the spa and get my manicure done with one of my favorite gals. So I did the unthinkable on my day off and actually shaved. That's a big no-no, and it definitely goes against the Bachelor's Code (they're more like guidelines, actually), but I had to make myself look good. Or at least presentable.
I found a clean and unwrinkled shirt, got dressed, and headed out. Of course I got hassled at the security gate again--they didn't have my name on the list, again, so I had to pull over and wait like some dude at the McDonalds' drive-thru who orders a McRib with no sauce. A few minutes later, my credentials checked out, and I was allowed entrance into the Holiest of Holies.
Once I got to the spa, I checked in at the desk and they said that Beth would be with me in just a few minutes. From my seat in the corner, I could see in the mirror that she was finishing off a pedicure for a lady, so I chilled for a few minutes, enjoying the fact that my cellphone holds almost as many songs as my iPod does.
Just about the time I was about to air-guitar along with the solo at the end of Free Bird, Beth came out and told me she was ready for me, saving me from embarrassing myself further in front of all the rich old ladies getting their hair done.
She went to work on my nails, and we had a great conversation. I was her last client of the day, and instead of it taking just a half hour, she spent an hour with me. Not only did I get a first-class manicure, but she gave me a wonderful hand massage, too. That's something I'd never had before--a hand massage. And for somebody who uses their hands constantly for work, it was quite the blissful experience. I told her, jokingly, that next time I was there, screw the manicure, I just want a hand massage for an hour.
Anyhow, here's the story about Beth and I. We went out once in the past--but it was a 'group' date--me, her, and Kimmy. Yes, I was feeling like quite the stud that night, having two of the hottest girls in Vegas on my arm for several hours. But before that, we were just casual acquaintances--I'd seen her around the casino, but she rarely worked in my section at all. So that night when the three of us went out, I got to know her much better, and we became fast friends. She'd come by and say hello whenever she'd see me working, and we'd have dinner in the break room together on occasion, but that was it. I still didn't know her very well at all, and of course, never had her on my radar because truthfully, she's about the most attractive girl I've ever met, and so far outta my league that it's almost laughable.
But, we've gotten to be better friends these past couple of months, and I figured we'd hang out again sometime down the road. Anyhow, part of our conversation awhile back was how she used to be a nail tech and really enjoyed it, and would like to get back into it. I encouraged her a bit and said that if she got into a salon somewhere, I promised that I'd have her do my nails.
So that brought us up to a few weeks ago when I ran into her in the parking garage, and she told me that she's working at the spa part-time doing nails. So the next day I made an appointment.
So the reality is, while we chatted a bit over the past few months, I really didn't know her very well at all. But since she got my number last week, we've talked on the phone a few times, one night for almost a half hour, and it seemed like she was testing the waters with me. And the other day when she told me to call her up whenever I was out and about, well, that made me think twice that hey, maybe she's mildly interested in spending some time with me.
Well, today, since we had an hour of 'alone-time', I got my interview. In the course of our conversation, she asked all those personal questions that kind of clear the way for the next step--am I married, engaged, seeing anyone? No, what about you? Nope, totally single, been divorced for awhile now, not seeing anybody, etc etc... Not that the whole conversation went that way, but in the course of our talk, all the hurdles were cleared, so to speak.
I felt that regardless of what happens or doesn't happen, at least I have someone very cool to hang out with.
When we finally finished up, I left her a tip and went up to the desk to pay the tab and make another appointment for two weeks from now because it was the best $22 I'd spent in a long time. While I was doing that, I looked up and could see her mouthing me a message to wait for her, and she'd walk out with me.
Ok!
Just then, the lady with the pedicure, who was the client right before me, came back in lamenting the fact that her son had stepped on her toe and she needed her nail fixed right away.
I gave Beth the 'What should I do?' look, and again, she whispered to just wait, it would only be a few minutes. So I sat back down and waited for her to finish up the toe-repair. It didn't take long, and we were on our way out to her truck a few minutes later. I have to admit, I was feeling really nervous right about then. I think I'm now over that whole stuttering mess thing, but I could tell that the moment of truth was lurking right around the corner. About to the point where the awkward goodbye happens, she said "Well, I guess I'll see you at work sometime", but I came back with Nah, I don't wanna wait that long. How about I call you next week and we go out to lunch or something?
Of course she said yes. Actually, she said to call her once I knew what my schedule was, and then we'll plan something.
And the icing on the cake was the goodbye kiss right there in the parking lot.
I don't wanna sound like too much of a doofus, but yep, it's been a pretty good day so far. Anything else is just gravy.
Mikey
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