End of summer madness...
thehalflie is currently visiting (pre-Scottish adventure), so we did a day trip to Vancouver, which always results in Boyfriend imitating various foreign accents, me drooling over things I can't afford, and
thehalflie being refined and restrained in the midst of it.
Boyfriend (in ferry line-up): Hurry! You're forcing me to burn gas! I'm killing the birds!
thehalflie: And the seals.
Boyfriend: You're making Al Gore angry.
Five minutes later, still in the ferry line...
Me: Look! There's a chocolate-covered banana stand!
Boyfriend: I'll pay you twenty dollars to go ask for a Bluthe Frozen Banana.
Me: Can't you just go buy me one?
Boyfriend: No, I'm being with holding. Look at me, getting off.
And then there was lunch at the Art Gallery, which, well... Culture requires Chardonnay. And quiche with spinach and brie. Being attacked by the flock of small birds during our post-meal wonderment at precisely how classy we are, on the other hand, was somewhat frightening. Until a giant, bedraggled raven à la Poe scared them off.
My feedback card for Earls:
To whom it may concern,
I understand that many of your female servers find it necessary to wear black (primarily non-existent) spandex dresses in order to garner tips; however, I feel that this is creating an atmosphere of inequality and objectification, which decreases my desire to support your business endeavours. Hence and therefore, I propose a solution to this problem: enforce a strict all-spandex dress code that encompasses your male employees, for the viewing pleasure of those patrons not sexually attracted to the female gender.
I also want to practice my leering for when I am a dirty old woman.
Thank you for your consideration.
Sincerely,
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In even more unrelated news, The Historian (Elizabeth Kostova) is spectacular. Go read it.