what's the hold up? where's the fire?

a weekend recap, for those suffering from the affliction of boredom:

the highlights:

*gills & i all suited up for a dinner date, our date (andrew, you mook) pulls a gypsy no-show, so we go to rose pistola...a little fancy for the two of us (as we are used to a more casual sitting-in-the-living-room-eating-plain-yogurt-with-almonds-in-our- pajamas kind of dining situation). we are all set for the standard fare (italian margherita pizza & a salad, wine for me, coke for the sister) when what, to our wondering eyes doth appear? as a special treat from the kitchen staff (that know gills from the other restaurant)? a steaming hot plate of mussels.
(vomit rising even in the retelling of this event)

it's an open kitchen. they can see everything i do. & there are 3-5 eager faces awaiting our approval. for the stranger to these pages & my dietary situation, nothing with a pulse for me. & gills/bg doesn't eat anything from the ocean.

we are So Alike in so many ways. but at this moment, where we differ becomes deafeningly evident.

i figure, for courtesy's sake, we have to eat at least 1/2 of this plate of flesh. so, even though I DON'T EAT MEAT, i crack open the carcasses & anchors aweigh. no looking back. i have downed about 5 of them, when i realize banana is still fiddling with the first one. she looks at me & in all seriousness says "i don't think i can do this". short of reaching across the table & gutting her like a fish, i say in my most even tone, through very clenched teeth, "I Don't Eat Meat, You Will Be Eating These F*ing %*#$@$ Starting Right The F* Now".

i think in total, she ate four, all swallowed whole with lots of water (it's sunday night @ 2 am, and as of right now, she still complains about them being lodged in her throat).

the pizza was crap & the salad had an exciting factor of "meh". but we got a story out of it, so, totally worth it.

*movie plans to see the darjeeling limited otra vez. bg & i are all guns go to meet sweet lime, at which time she calls to say she is running late (all is forgiven, sweet lime, don't fret). we decide to venture out right then anyway, in hot pursuit of coffee & breakfast (granted, its noon, but i have not been up to grocery shopping yet again, so there is not so much as an oat flake to eat @ 1429 kearny street, apartment no.3).

again, the dietary situation of one molly e. mundt & the aesthetics situation of one ana f. laub plays a major factor in what happens next.

if you know me, you know i have a food repertoire of about 10 things. one of them is the peaches & raspberry yogurt thing at starbucks. it's the only thing i like to eat there, other than the cookies (to clarify, i like the following cookies-the peanut butter & the snickerdoodle...Not, i repeat, Not the chocolate chip or the oatmeal, i hate the latter 2 cookies, gross).
if you know gills, a place has to rate higher on the aesthetics scale than "depressing". this adjective, "depressing", means it is unsuitable to be in said establishment, or even to walk past it.

we enter starbucks #1, on montgomery & clay. no yogurt breakfast for me. we move on. starbucks #2. "too depressing". starbucks #3. no food for me. starbucks #4. environment ok enough to get ana's food, but alas, no breakfast for me, and still depressing enough to not get the coffee & stay there. starbucks #4. closed. starbucks #5. disco.

yes, that's right, gentle reader, 5 f*ing starbucks until we actually got coffee & breakfast.

after consuming & walking out to meet sweet lime for the movie, bg thinks it would be really funny to hide. she is ridiculous. she finally comes out, and is walking behind me. i know this because all of sudden i hear loud running footsteps & then feel what seems like a gunshot in my right ass cheek. ana has decided as retribution for me spraying raid in her eyes in the lawn & garden department of wal-mart when we were NINE, she will select this time to punch me close fisted in the ass & with a running start.

i scream & nearly buckle, to the amusement of starbucks patrons & tourists alike. she flees the scene & hides around the corner.

i would keep recounting weekend highlights, but i have to re-inflate the ass doughnut i am sitting on before the swelling starts again.

thanks bg
(ps-the reader should note that this sister-of-mine does not yet have a bed yet, and sleeps an arm's length from me, if that...revenge is a #&$^#, banana. for sound effect purposes, the reader should insert a scary laugh track here, as i will be super-gluing large male tidy whities to her right calf later tonight)

(pss-happy birthday, art! enjoy manhattan!)