Saturday, January 06, 2007

we hear that casino royale is great



Last night was our big night. Date night. Dave and I have managed to go out together... this was the fourth time since the baby was born. The second time alone. (The first time was on our anniversary. We ran out for an hour to have the fastest dinner ever at The Santa Fe Cafe. Finn was with my mom. She is not the sturdiest babysitter in history.) Dave's mom is in town and it was her big wish that the two of us go out for a romantic evening. Sweet Larraine!

We were PSYCHED. We knew exactly what we were going to do. Casino Royale, motherfuckers! We haven't seen ONE movie together since the baby was born. Casino Royale and then a nice dinner! Maybe a moment or two at a bookstore! Ai carramba. Beautiful.

4:00 pm - The movie's at 4:40. We should leave the house now.
4:20 pm - We leave the house.
4:30 pm - Adrift in a sea of tail lights. That's okay, though. Commercials! Previews! We'll make it.
4:38 pm - Downtown is right there. We can see it. But we cannot reach it. How late are we okay with being to this movie?
4:45 pm - Downtown is right there. We can see it.
4:48 pm - We cannot reach it. But it's playing somewhere else! Once we are off this freeway, we can find out where.
5:00 pm - You know what? It's playing in Ballard. Let's just drive there!
5:10 pm - Almost an hour into the date. Mmm. Sitting in traffic = the date.
5:12 pm - We're in Ballard. It started at 3:30. The next one is not for more than an hour. Our baby will not make it if we begin watching a long movie at 6:45.
5:15 pm - Get a paper! Maybe another movie!
5:15 pm - It's playing at the Big Picture at 5:30! Burn rubber, hosers!
5:17 pm - It's playing at the Big Picture at 5:30 on Friday. Today is Thursday. Thursday it just plays at 8:00.
5:18 pm - !!#@($#
5:19 pm - Okay. We'll get dinner. We'll go and get dinner at Il Fornaio and go to the bookstore. It's okay. It's okay.
5:20 pm - We're in Fremont. I am tired of driving. I am tired. I make a lazy turn and hit a curb. I hit it hard. But blah blah. Whatever.
5:30 pm - We're still in Fremont. Traffic! I am bored! Dave! Feel me up at this traffic light! We're on a DATE fer chrissakes.
5:35 pm - It's loud driving over the Fremont bridge, right? This bridge is louder than normal. It's weird and shaky. This is some weird work they're doing on the bridge.
5:37 pm - Son. Of. A. Bitch. The tire is flat. FLAT.
5:40 pm - Pull over on Dexter. Get spare tire out. Is the idea. How do we get it out of the thing? The thing is locked!
5:42-6:00 - Read Toyota manual page by page while Dave yanks at the thing to get the tire out.
6:01 pm - "Dave? It says loosen the nut. Then loosen the bolt."
6:20 pm - OH MY GOD IT'S COLD. Didn't wear a coat on the date, as I thought we'd be getting out in a parking garage. Dave changes the tire while I spaz out for warmth on the sidewalk. Hour Two of our fuckin' sweet date passes, Hour Three commences.
6:30 pm - We're on the road again. The road to Pacific Place, Il Fornaio and dinner. We'll be there in five minutes.
6:40 pm - We have been stuck at the same green light for two cycles. Would you like to get screamed at? Travel back in time to this moment and meet me at the white car at the stoplight at 7th and Olive. Look at me funny. Be the straw to my camel's back.
6:45 pm - We're at Pacific Place. Let's go into Il Fornaio via the upstairs entry. I don't want to be outside and get cold again. Wait. Let's just eat upstairs for a change! It's fancier, but we're skipping the movie.
6:47 pm - "Would you two be interested in sitting at our table of honor?" "-Wha?" "Our table of honor. We pick people randomly each night to sit at a special table and the chef sends out some special extras and the service is particularly attentive."
6:48 pm - Dave and I jab each other in disbelief as we are led to the Table of Honor.
6:49 pm - The actual date begins. It is weird and funny and GREAT. Being at the Table of Honor is a little bit like being a guest judge on Iron Chef. Look at this surprise crab cake on its lobster and balsamic reduction! Zabaglione is the dessert of honor! (They really called it the dessert of honor.) In other news, apparently I can drink a glass of wine and not be immediately under the table like I thought. I will be seeing you around campus, Pinot Noir. Dave and I imagine ourselves visiting all the regular tables and introducing ourselves, "Hi, we're Dave and Tina...from the table of honor...we had some down time in between amuse-bouches and we thought we should say hello...oh, you just have one kind of bread? Well, you know what? I bet you're still going to have a great time. Sorry if I seem disoriented. I'm just so used to looking at our red tablecloth. Your tablecloth is so blindingly white. The tablecloth at the table of honor is red. Oops. Here come some olives of honor. We have to run."
8:45 pm - We dash into the bookstore. I buy a book about unlocking the secrets to becoming impossibly French. This is a favorite genre of mine.
9:10 pm - We drive home slowly on our spare tire.

Finn FREAKED OUT while we were gone. Oh, date night. We will see Casino Royale one at a time, on separate days, some time in the future.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Those seated at the Table of Dishonor, by contrast, are obliged to commit ritual suicide at the end of the meal.

Christopher said...

FB: Do they at least get dessert?

Okay, date night from Hell for you, but truly fracking hee-haw-larious for us readers!

momster said...

I am so glad you persevered!
As for Finn freaking out...one time we came home and the babysitter's MOM was there. It was not because our child was so exemplary that the babysitter wanted to show her off. It was because she cried the whole damn time we were gone!
You totally deserved the Table of Honor.

Nailed It said...

Tina, this makes me wonder why I haven't been checking in here more often. Pure brilliance!

(the movie is great)

:)

SN

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I sure did.