Sunday, June 21, 2009

Marx & Me, and Dean, Mara Liisa, and Marty

We made it downtown last night. Adults, out on the town, going to an adult restaurant, eating and talking sans children. Fiction miraculously turned fact.

I parked in a handicap spot, put on the emergency flashers, and dashed into the Marx. How does one know exactly when a restaurant stops serving dessert? The host rattled off, from memory, at least eight mutli topping, multi unknown-words desserts that from their descriptions led me to believe that we would be getting mouse-size portions regardless of the choice. Oh well, maybe that's what adults without children eat.

I retraced my steps to the flashing, yet-unticketed car and relayed this adult information. The ladies exited to secure seats. Dean and I drove to my office where we parked and enjoyed a stroll back to the restaurant. Oh, did I mention that the restaurant was Marx?

We had:
1. great conversation: more parenting talk, concern about socialistic propensities of college instruction, and a brief explanation of why I have enjoyed reading Nietzsche. I forgot to add "Thus Spoke Zarathustra" to my book list of yesterblog.
2. great desserts. These were not mouse-size portions. Quite the contrary.

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