Figuring that a month away was enough time to detox, I returned to the barbecue joint for the Cinco de Mayo/Kentucky Derby madness and was pleased to see things pretty much the same as always; the usual suspects were mostly present, and Will was back for a visit and a bartending shift, shared with Joy, before heading back to his current gig in Vegas. It was fun to catch up, and many people didn’t recognize me at first, thanks to my shaved head and lack of customary chin fuzz.
But, whatever, I was there to have fun, and have fun I did, getting my drink on and noting how much my tolerance has dwindled in just one short month away from nightly Jose Quervo and Budweiser binges. Needless to say, a good deal of Sunday was spent in bed watching old MYSTERY SCIENCE THEATER 3000 tapes and filling my gullet with sustenance to replace the greasy diner repast that erupted from my soused guts and into the bowl in a chunky, technicolor fantasy at around five o’clock that morning.
And on that charming note, doesn’t Tracey the Waitress Goddess look fetchingly elfin in a Robin Hood cap?
1 comment:
I knew that diner hash was a mistake. -Jes
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