Ramblings Post #94
Now is the time, as happens around this time, where I start to question my life choices. Specifically what made me think I could be a lawyer. I mean really, what was I thinking. I'm either in way over my head or I'm a little bit crazier than I think. I can no longer tell how I do I tests, I'm not sure if my data is sound, I'm questioning myself at every turn. But as I said at the midterm - "If I'm not nervous about it, then I got a problem."
It was Saturday, the tutor session started late, I'd been reviewing too much for one class and needed a break, and so when Spur called and said let's go eat (right as I walking into the session) I asked her if we could kick it back to after my brain was thoroughly fried. She was cool with that.
So Spur met me on a late, warm Saturday afternoon at our old hangout, Fellini's. There was a time she and I would do Fellini's twice a week, a couple of slices, a couple beers and just chill and talk about whatever. This is nearly a decade ago when we both "between positions", but since then Atlanta's little bohemian pizza chain has been "our" spot, although we do venture upmarket from time to time.
But as it was she got a slice with ground beef, onions, and peppers and I got the basic sausage pepperoni with extra cheese, we got a couple of cold ones and found a spot on the patio of Fellini's on Ponce, which for a restaurant on a busy four lane street is pretty damned relaxing. Or so it used to be. We never really got around to talking about anything, though we did have a good time. It turned out whatever day that was, is apparently family night.
Now, Fellini's has always been, at least to me, a bohemian pizza joint. The vast majority of them are mostly patio, the little sign to let them know which table to deliver your pizza or slice to are little photos pop icons like James Dean or Frankenstein or something. Staffed by what looks like, well, bohemians, it is usually chock full of college kids, hipsters and couples in BMWs looking for something a little different. So to look over and see, somebody's gray haired mother was a little disconcerting. To see her sitting next to her even grayer haired husband even more of a shock. Then the kids came.
I got nothing against kids. My favorite kind are the ones you herd back over to the mothers. My least favorite are the kind whose mother's sit down, start sipping on their beer and are oblivious as their brood run wild. The people on my patio were the second group. I watched the kids filch change out of the fountain, chase birds, refuse to take off their skates, stick their feet in the water, etc, all while the adults paid them no heed. Spur kept calling them out to me as they happened. I kept wondering when the mother was going to say something.
It started as a joke, but maybe it really was just family night. Another couple showed up with three kids. Then some other folks showed with kids. Apparently Chuckie Cheese was closed. Spur and I decided we'd need a bit more age friendly spot to hang out at in the future, because the occasional curse words happen over beers, and there is nothing worse than a mommy's righteous indignation after she's taken the reins off her children for you to offend them by acting like a grown up.
Other than that, my Saturday...of which the night was spent still reading for that SAME freaking class...was as boring as expected.
Barkeep. B-12 with bee pollen in a mountain dew guava juice mix. I need brain food.