Hold down the applause at my return. It's no great feat. I'm lazy, but my creative juices (just the mental ones) have been awakened by Disco Mike. Who? you may ask. You know Disco Mike, that one guy. Yeah him, the one I keep asking to marry me, but he always turns me down. I don't know why. You don't know about him? Well, let me fill you in.
Way back in my past life in Minneapolis I had this friend Patty Pumpkin Pants, you all remember him right? We were roommates for a while--up until he realized women were moody sometimes! Anyway, Patty and Mike used to work together at some now extinct company called comDisco. Hence was born, Disco Mike. I've known Mike for about three, maybe four years. Patty and I would go over to Mike's house for bbq's and wine. Yes, those two things do go together. We would all stand around in the kitchen drinking and talking, but the funny thing is, Mike and I never really spent any time together without other people around. That all changed a couple of weeks ago.
Mike was lucky enough to end up presenting at some computer security thing in Houston. (He's kind of like Chandler from Friends, no one really knows what he does). He called to let me know and we made plans to get together while he was here. On a very nice Friday afternoon I ditched work early due to a bad case of Spring Fever and headed over to his hotel. I picked him up for a late lunch and we went to Pappasito's--a very yummy mexican restaurant. We caught up on events in our lives over a couple of margaritas. As we all know nothing helps a good time get better like alcohol. We laughed and enjoyed ourselves.
As the afternoon progressed we laughed some more as we tried to navigate our way through downtown Houston. With Mike in the passager's seat, map in hand, we were able to get around rather well. Unfortunately he wasn't aware that in order to make a turn he needed to let me know--ahead of time. We had a few close calls, but with the aid of a few nice people we yelled at out the window we managed to see most of downtown.
Our late lunch prompted a very late dinner. By 10 we had worked up enough of an appetite to catch a snack. We drove all over the ritzy River Oaks neighborhood trying to find a good sushi restaurant. Eventually we ended up at the one across the street from my apartment complex. The place is called Ginza, very good, even for strip mall sushi. Yes, you heard me, it was in a strip mall, there common here. What we thought would be a small snack ended up being a full meal. A little seaweed salad for starters, some wonderful sushi and we were stuffed. We ate it all though, who could let it go to waste.
After our wonderful dinner we went to find the boy bars. Yes I said find and I said boy bars. I'm not the same person I was in Minneapolis, if I was there would be no finding about the whole event. I would know where to park and which bartender made the best drinks. We had success in about 30 minutes. All we needed to do was follow the very tall "women" wearing their hooker shoes. I can't remember the name of the place we went to but it was loud and packed with boys. As we stood there talking some tiny, pocket-sized boy came up to us and threw his arm around our shoulders. He then proceeded to ask me some very personal questions about my sexual preference. He was convinced I liked girls. What a mess! Or, as Mike would say, damaged goods. We finally escaped the clutches of the midget freak guy and meandered around the bar. It was cool, whatever, you've seen one bar full of drunk homos you've seen them all. It takes a lot to impress me.
Saturday we had a master plan in order. We went to the book sale at the convention center (and yes, I do know how to show people a good time), caught some sun and the pool in my front yard and ate more sushi. That's right, we enjoyed it so much we had to go back for more. The lady was trying to convince us to try something new, but we had the same thing as the day before, just less of it. We had reservations at a fancy schmancy restaurant downtown at 8:30. We had a fiesta, got all gussied up and headed over to the restarant. Like most cities road construction creates havoc on the road, so we had a small amount of drama, but nothing too devestating. I think we were overly ambitious in our ordering. Two appetizers EACH and an entree. EEK, neither of us could finish. The longing for the banana's foster would not be satisfied. Our gluttenous behavior prevented us from even considering the most important part of the meal.
We did manage to hit one more bar before Mike had to get back to the hotel. We listened to some jazz and had a nightcap. The best thing about the weekend was how Mike and I really got to know each other. It's amazing how well we connected. (I know this sounds all serious so it won't last for long). Who knew that we would have such a great time hanging out together. Mike was also generous enough to sponsor me for the weekend. What's a sponsor you might ask. Well, I just recently found out. I kept saying I needed a sugar daddy so I didn't have to work. A girl I go to school told me about this sponsor thing. Apparently they just buy you stuff for nothing in return--well sexually anyway. You do have to spend time with them. So Mike was generous enough to sponsor me, but the funny thing is I felt like I should do something for him--you know, something. So, I made sure to buy a least one round of nightcaps that night.
OK, be safe! Don't give me any shit either for not blogging enough.
