Pre-Rush Hour, Post Ice Storm
At the moment sleet-like snow is pelting down on the windows of the study. It snowed two inches last night and now it’s being topped with an iced glaze. It’s two fifteen and I don’t feel like doing anything. I haven’t even showered, and now that the already hazardous driving conditions have worsened, I don’t think I will do anything today. Unless someone picks me up. But, even if they don’t, maybe I’ll still shower. Just maybe.
This week has been pretty boring. Boring coupled with cold, and it’s the worst. I did, however have a fun evening recently with Courtney, Lylee, Justin, myself, some Olde English and some Boone’s Farm.
I went to dinner with Justin at that Welsh pub in the CWE, not Lywellen’s, but the other one. The menu was an expansive list of things I don’t like, but about five of the items were just interesting enough to tip the favor. In honor of Mozart’s birthday, “Chicken Pot Pie Amedeus” was added to the specials board. It actually looked kind of good, in a non-Swanson-brand, it’ll-definitely-take-more-than-five-minutes-and-is-bound-to-include-mushrooms kind of way. I decided upon it while he pondered over the quiche, wondering why it was under the “full plates” section but didn’t include a side. “Maybe it’s pie sized,” I offered and grinned. We both ordered the Amedeus.
Our chicken pot pies arrived and they were, in fact, full pie sized. He ate one half of his, and of mine, I ate about a third.
While we walked from the pub to Cartel, I became convinced that the price of that once ubiquitous ore called salt had either become expensive or rare, as two weeks after the actual snowstorm, the sidewalk was still covered with ice. Our faces chapped, we finally got to cartel and sat with Courtney, who was knitting one of the most beautiful scarves I’ve ever seen. Not quite remembering the lesson she learned last time, she was complaining about her soy chai. “This is the grossest thing I’ve ever tasted,” she said before taking another gulp. “Do you want to try it?”
About a half hour later Lylee showed up and we decided to go to Imos, the promise of pitchers of beer being the deal-maker. We all jumped in the car and found out that at the late hour, it was carry out only, so Justin and I sat in the car and the girls got salad and a pizza.
Blah, blah, blah.
We went to Schnuck’s, bought the liquor, sat in my little car while we drank in the shadow of the Park Plaza and its parking garage.
It was fun and we weren’t arrested.