So, you know last week was our 15th anniversary. And we were supposed to go away to a romantic B&B where Mr. Manic was going to have his way with me in the "Juniper" Room, but then my Dad got the "Blue Monster," which is what we're calling the fist-sized mass that was growing inside him, which made the doctor cut my Dad from his upper ribcage down to his pelvis and then staple him up around 30 or so times in an inverted T shape. But the Blue Monster was benign, so it's all good, and none of us cared that my parents couldn't come up to watch the kids for our romantic getaway cuz as luck would have it, not only did my dad get the Blue Monster, but I got the Red Sea.
So there was gonna be no anniversary-sexin' it up anyway, so what's the point of going to a romantic B&B for three nights if all you're gonna do is go out, get drunk, and not be able to take advantage of one another in your drunken state, and no jokes about well, you know. I'm not even gonna go there.
BUT, get this, we were still charged $130 because we didn't cancel 10 days out. Like um, OK lady, like I knew my Dad was gonna have an emergency Blue Monster in his gut that he had to have removed. And I called her crying about it, so it was obvious I wasn't trying to get out of our vacation just cuz I didn't want to go cuz I had my period. Duh.
I almost said to her, "Lady, I have a blog and I know how to use it. I can tell everyone the name of your B&B and then you'll get NO GUESTS EVER!" Ha. How you like me now beeeyotch.
I didn't get me my money back. And even when we suggested we will come later in the summer (literally and figuratively), she wouldn't even let us use that $130 for a future credit.
So now I'm not sure I wanna stay in that stupid Juniper room.
Or maybe I do, and we can do bad stuff in that room that nobody will know about but us. Hee hee hee. I'll get my $130 worth in the end. And they'll need a black light to get all our DNA off the ceiling.
ANYWAY! (ooh, speaking of lights--the lights almost went out--there's a storm! Just thought I'd share so you can get a real feel for how it is when I'm blogging at 12:44 a.m.) This is the story I meant to share:
Our anniversary plans were altered, and Mr. Manic still took a couple of days off work. We went to lunch one afternoon to one of our favorite places, and our usual server, Andy, whose girlfriend cuts my hair, was not there, so I asked for the next best server so we get Kelly, who we'd never met before. She was very nice and accommodating.
Through all of our lunch, Mr. Manic and I were all lovey-dovey romantic and all, and then it was time for dessert...
Kelly, our server, asks: "Did you guys save room for something sweet?"
[Keep in mind, this is oozing with flowery goofy sarcastic sarcasmic fun.]
Me: "I don't need anything sweet. I already have him."
Mr. Manic: "We're in looove." And he grabs my hand across the table.
Me: "Ooh, so in love."
Then Kelly chimes in: "You're luuuh-vers."
Mr. Manic: "Yep, luuuuvahs."
Me: "Yeah," and I look right at Kelly and deadpan, "Just don't tell my husband you saw me here with this guy."
"YOU SERIOUS?!?!?!" Kelly shouts, and her eyes bulge out. The shock on her face was absolutely hysterical because she really thought I was serious!
And then Mr. Manic busts out laughing so loud that everyone in the restaurant turned to see what was so funny, and that made me crack up and so the three of us are busting out laughing, and that's how Mr. Manic and I roll.
Like toilet paper that never runs out--our love...And yeah, most of the time, we're full of shit! Bwhahahahahahahah!