That time we crashed the Beatles.

Monday, June 16, 2014

Yesterday Brad and I picked up some fried chicken, pasta salad, and a bottle of wine and headed over to his grandparents' super swanky A-list gated community on the lake to enjoy a picnic and wound up crashing a Father's Day party with a Beatles cover band at the country club.

I would say this was the first time we literally stumbled into some organization's celebration and reaped all the benefits but that's actually a lie because this seems to happen at least once a month for us.

We both had to pee and decided to FAKE IT TIL YOU MAKE IT, and in this case walked through the doors of the country club to the bathrooms that were nicer than most houses I've been in, with free tampons and individual soft towels to dry your hands on and upholstered sofas in each toilet stall. I quickly considered stealing all of the tampons because you know I hate buying tampons, but that good person guilt kicked in and the only thing I stole was a FRESHLY BAKED BUCKEYE BROWNIE from the hallway table on my way out.

Eager for more trouble, we walked around the grounds and found some secret garden shit, with a waterfall and and overgrown stone stairway and tennis courts.


Anyway, had the best time I’ve had in awhile. It’s been two weeks since I’ve been able to leave my hometown due to that puppysitting nightmare, and not be crippled by the idea of functioning without Brad until the weekend. That puppy ruined me for 11 days. Baby puppies are awful. Nothing is better than old dogs who are just at peace with the world and themselves like little zen masters. And when they have grey eyebrows? OOOH boy, man, that is just the best.

In conclusion, I’m going to retire to start a shelter where senior citizen puppies can live out their best and final years. It will be called Jurassic Bark.