Tales of Wit and Charm…

last night flyboy invited me over for an evening of drinks and chain restaurants. i happily accepted and made the trek north: destination layton, or idaho as i call it.

somehow, i overshot and ended up in clearfield, go figure. i stopped for directions at the local maverick (a little bit white trash, a little bit country), it was there i realized, yet again, that nascar is ruining the nation. i patiently waited a couple minutes before interrupting the riveting conversation between the toothless employee and the man in the nascar jacket; there are only so many times i can listen to “holy shit, whoa man”, before i lose what’s left of my rumored sanity. i explained where i was attempting to go, only to get a “LAAA-DY… this ain’t layton!”

thank god for that….

flyboy and i spent the day wreaking havoc on the fair city of salt yesterday. it was a marathon judgment day, and not only did he tolerate my people skills, but he participated, and well i might add! the venue was liberty park for the drum circle; those who have spent time with me know, hippie watching is a sport. there were so many favorites to choose from and sadly, no camera. as usual, i made it out alive and offended only a few. duck man being the few (plural as i’m positive he considered the giant toy duck he carried around a friend). at one point duck man noticed our watchful eyes, it was then i felt a little guilty. not to worry, i washed that right down with more judgment and a diet coke.

one sunburned nose later we ended up at andy’s. i don’t remember the last time i had such a good time getting groped at the local dive bar. sadly, it was just jack doing the groping. jack being my new dive bar boyfriend; this is not an exclusive relationship, nor is it reciprocated.

flyboy handled the entire day with ease, which causes one to think i’ve possibly found myself an elitist partner-in-crime.