Friday night into Saturday

It all started with a drive to the beach. We opened the cabin. Turned on the power. Turned on the water. Then we headed into the Sportsman’s Pub for dinner and beverages.

We got a round of drinks, Jane ordered her rib-eye, and then this happened when I attempted to order a burger:

Me to the waitress: I’ll have a Mushroom Swiss burger.
Jane: Oh, you’re getting dead baby ears?
Me: Dead baby ears? What the fuck?
Waitress: Ohmygod, mushrooms are totally dead baby ears. Or wait, were the babies dead or alive?
Jane: I guess they could have been alive.
Waitress: They would shrink after you cut them off.
Me: I hope these babies were deaf before you cut their ears off.
Jane: Maybe it would be better if the babies were dead.
Waitress: But not for long, or the ears wouldn’t be fresh.
Me: Hey! I have to eat this!
Waitress: It’s OK. Our dead baby ears are very fresh.

Yes, I still ordered the burger.
Yes, somehow I have managed to surround myself with people who are every bit as odd as I am.

The best thing was the way the waitress just rolled with it. She didn’t even blink.

That is why I love people. They turn mushrooms into dead baby ears.
Dinner. Drinks. Friends joined us. Joked about condiments with the waitress, who remembered Kyle and Rocky the Condiment Kings.

Back to Kathleen’s place for a few more drinks and profound conversation.

Got home to Sandtime eventually. Late. Very late.

Slept late Saturday. Coffee. Stew on the stove. Snacks. More profound conversation and reading. Knitting. Crocheting. Reading. A walk on the misty, foggy, high tide beach.

I suspect there may have been saunas taken at Kathleen’s.

Going to upload now…I may not get a signal again!