Carmels

There are few things in life sweeter than a well deserved caramel. I think we can all agree on that, men and women alike. Eating caramels is orgasmic. So, taking the scenic tour to the end of this vignette, last Tuesday, Duane and I went to Pons' Studio to spin class. Francisco Pons is a great spin instructor, and we left after 90 minutes feeling tired, but not satisfied. So, usually after going to spin on Tuesday, we end up at this bar eating bar food and drinking three - 20 ounce glasses of some sport recovery drink that they have on tap there. Its a great place that has six different channels of ESPN. There is ESPN, ESPND, ESPN2, ESPN2D and ESPN8, 'the ocho'.

The problem is that the bar we like is run by a self proclaimed virgin with an under performing thyroid who camps at our table and discusses her personal life ad nauseum. She has no verbal filter; whatever is on her mind is immediately barfed forth by her magnificently efficient vocal cords. Apparently, her boyfriend can't close the deal.  When she told that story, I was interested, but now, after hearing it and a dozen others, I just don't care.  It makes my sports drink taste like old socks as soon as she drops by our table with a new story.  We gotta find a new hangout.

So last Tuesday we wander down the street looking for a new place. We almost went into Ray's BBQ. That could have been good. I mean, who doesn't like BBQ? They had an Olympia beer sign in the window. I am thinking that they stopped making Oly in 1979 and this place either stocked up or the bartender is too lazy to take down the Oly sign and put up the Buckhorn sign. Either way, it was really tempting, but then we saw a mexican place right across the street. We went in there.

The mexican place was redecorated during the Reagan administration. They had shag carpet. The walls were painted a pastel pink that had attracted enough dust to qualify for a farm subsidy.

Then, the topper was there was a plastic donkey pulling a plastic wagon with a plastic Corona bottle in the wagon on the wall next to the 48 inch HD flat screen. You could watch the game on the tv, then you glanced to the left just a bit and there was the donkey, pulling the wagon. The donkey was smiling, I kid you not. Perfect, my kind of place. This is way better than the fat virgin bartender at the other place.

So, we are drinking our sports drinks, eating the triathlon training recovery chips, which are free by the way, and the bartender is switching the tv back and forth between the SEC basketball tourney and a rerun of I Love Lucy where Lucy and Ethel are working in the chocolate factory and the chocolates keep coming faster and faster. That kills me. You need to watch Lucy and Ethel.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8NPzLBSBzPI

So everytime he switches the channel, the tv takes a second to switch and I keep looking at that smiling donkey pulling the wagon. Is this a great place or what? Anyway, we order dinner, the guy suggests the street tacos. For six bucks on the happy hour menu, you get three tacos. We ask how long happy hour runs, because it is getting close to 10pm and he says it runs all night.  Seriously?  I ask if they rent rooms in the back.  I am thinking of moving in. I mean really, happy hour runs all night?

So we get our tacos. They are good. They taste like caramels. Caramel tacos.

Yesterday I ran 4 miles.  That was good.  Today I swam.  I cramped.  Everywhere.  I had cramps in new places.

Does anybody else think Gillette razors are overpriced? Do I need a seven blade razor with a vibrating head?