Um, if you want to know what I was up to last week, Waste is chronicling it for you (along with much disussion of his bowels...). You ought to read it anyway, because he's funny. Just remember that (as I do too) he writes as he speaks.... and when he speaks there's a lot of incomprehensible sentence fragment mumbling going on. I would be The Girl over there (because it's almost always the case that's he's nicer to me than I to him).
I've been on this strange mission lately. The goal? To teach Writer Guy about the more interesting points of Cincinnatian cuisine (I don't think that word is valid for what we're talking about, but it's the best one I have). He's eaten Skyline Chili, he's promised to try goetta "at some point", and today we ate at Frisch's.
Without any help, he did order seafood. I don't think he tried the Tartar Sauce (which is a shame because it's great), but I didn't push it. I ordered from memory.... "A children's grilled cheese and fries, an extra side of pickles and a cherry Coke". I obviously appeared to be regressing to eight year-old mary ann, until I explained to him that a) I don't care for Texas Toast b) No one in her right mind doesn't put pickles on a grilled cheese sandwhich from Frisch's and c) they add syrup to their coke to make it cherry (causing him to upgrade his Coke to a cherry one too).
Unfortunately, this restaurant didn't have what my sister considers to be the number one reason to eat there.... Muzak. They had real "music" piped in with lyrics and everything. I was a bit disappointed. Also, the mother-in-law-tongues were everywhere, but the rest of the decor was rather modern for my tastes. The waitresses were slightly lacking in interesting application of barettes as well.
I didn't bore him with the details (you know, like "if you're not eating at a Mainliner, it just isn't the same"). I didn't make him eat the Tartar Sauce.... I wasn't nearly as forceful about getting the "whole experience" as I could've been.
He was a bit confused when I more or less demanded Strawberry Piebaby from the waitress. She understood. Maybe she'd overheard some of our conversation. "I don't care how full you are. You are not too full to eat just one little bite of this pie!" She brought two forks.
The piebaby was a big hit. I think the rest of it passed okay. But the piebaby was a big success. I doubt he'll ever set out to eat Cincinnati-style chilli again, but I think he just might hit up a Frisch's sometime soon (considering he lives like almost across the street from the one we ate at today....).
I only hope I can have as much success with the goetta.
On a completely unrelated note.... I broke out my brown sandals today. The ones with a millionty straps and three inch stacked heels. I fell down a flight of stairs at school when the heel got trapped under the leg of my pants. I'm fine if slightly humiliated. And I did less poorly on my last test than I previously suspected. Next week is the final. One quarter, almost complete, and I might just get an "A".
Oh, also, I have a job next week. Secretary at a law firm. One week temp job, prolly 30 hours total, downtown. Answering phones, minor typing. Should be lovely.
