We had committed to have dinner post-closing with the Bride's mother. The Bride said "Ugh - Mom would probably like something like McCormick and Schmick's." So we called her and agreed to meet.
We-he-hell, traffic was backed up all the way on to the highway at the necessary exit. This because the Greene (our local made-to-look-like-an-old-downtown-lifestyle-mall/shithole) was having its Holiday Festival thingy, complete with terrified reindeer in a cage, dilhorn safety officers show-offedly tampering with traffic flow and all the cornpone dipshits one could ever hope for, marching dutifully through the grounds, smiling warmly, showing little Kaylie and Addison the lights. IT ISN'T EVEN THANKSGIVING. I just know someone was saying to their kids "This is what Christmas used to be like!" as they perused the crappy, crappy stores (of which there is not one decent one, barring Sephora and Banana Republic [if you count that, which I don't, really]). Yep, shit was always this tacky, Beavercreek Glenn Beck or whoever the fuck you were.
We called Mom-in-Law and told to avoid this emetic morass. Meet us at DiSalvo's, we said. It took us 25 minutes to even get out of this mall/thing! Russian missiles were sadly not forthcoming. Frig!
So. On to Eye-talian [as was no doubt being said by our friends back in Santa's bedpan], where there was an hour wait. The girls stayed, and I, committed to this cover band shenanigans, took my leave. I still have not eaten, mind!
No comments:
Post a Comment