Not Recommended

 

After you spend your day painting, taping walls, spackling, and picking up new furniture, and you find yourself in a nice restaurant with a lifelong friend having a few drinks, I do not recommend the following.

First, realize that your body is sore from lifting heavy things, so you decide self-medication is in order.

Your daughter is the bartender. You tell her to surprise you with a drink. Or two. So she starts you off with a French Martini. The raspberry is pretty yummy. After that, she plies you a Pina Colada. WITH whipped cream. A waitress drops off another Pina Colada (with more whipped cream) when you aren't paying attention. You are not only a cheap drunk, you are driving.

Dinner arrives. You eat a few bites, and discuss your favorite new song that has you obsessed, "Tear you apart," by She Wants Revenge with a sweet waiter. He loves the song too. Your daughter who usually likes the same music you do, has never heard it, but prefers some song about a stripper that you are not familiar with. Uh oh. Generation gap is beginning, 26 years late.

Said daughter asks if you like olives. You answer in the affirmative, because your dates says to, and you have a vague recollection of liking olives. Daughter puts a funny-looking dirty martini in front of you. It's funny looking because you never had one before. It's very salty. You consider giving your car keys to the sweet waiter so he can drive you and your date home safely.

The last third of the dirty martini gets somehow mysteriously spilled on your favorite blouse, which you bought in Toronto and cannot replace. It smells salty.

A diet Coke says wait an hour or more, dry off, and go home.

Drink diet Coke, dry off, and go home.

The do not recommend part? Possibly ruining your favorite blouse from Toronto.

The rest was a lot of fun!