Waitresses and Pants
As has been previously noted, I got up with the sun yesterday. By 3:30pm I was nodding in my chair. So, I decided I'd been in the office long eough, went home, drew the blinds, and slept until 6pm, when Geoff called me to invite me to dinner in Independence. I groggily accepted, and splashed some cold liquid on my face before meeting Geoff and Matt on the corner. With them was Bill, a guy from Texas who Matt once met at the wedding of a mutual friend, and who it turned out was moving to Kansas City for work.

To show him a good time, Geoff, Matt, and I took him to the Rheinland Restaurant on the Square in Independence. Dinner at the area's last remaining German restaurant was delectable, and everybody seemed to get along pretty well. Bill was in talks with a real estate agent who had designs on him buying a house somewhere in 913, even though his place of work is going to be in North Kansas City. We talked to him about houses in North KC and Parkville, and he seemed encouraged.

Bill and Matt wandered off after dinner, so Geoff and I went to the Flying Saucer, and met Brad and Stacy there. They left soon after we got there, and we were soon joined by Katie, and later by Cassie, an off-work waitress with whom we have a good rapport. Geoff and Katie left us there to talk. After two or three more beers, and lots of discussion about inconsequential crap, she invited me to join her and her friends in Westport.

I suppose my age began to show at that point, as she was a very attractive young woman that appeared to be at least somewhat interested in my company, and all I could think about was that it was almost 1am, and I had to go home and go to bed. She gave me a ride home, taking a relatively leisurely and roundabout route, like an attractive cab driver. She told me that she'd be working the next day, and that I should come in and see her. I suppose I should go.

I woke up this morning with a headache, and uncomfortably tired from not getting enough sleep. The building next door to my building is a DST(ironically, my employer) office building, and there was a semi-truck backed up to the loading dock when I went to get in my car and drive to work. The semi was taking up the space that's normally taken up by the DST delivery vans that shuttle between their various downtown and suburban locations. So, there was a DST van blocking my car. I asked around over at the loading dock to see about getting the van moved so I could go to work, and a middle-aged guy came out and offered to trade parking spots between my car and the van. "Sounds good," I said, and I climbed into my car, splitting my pants wide open as I did so.

Good times.

ck chimed in with:
Sounds like you're quite the regular at this there Flying Saucer joint. This would seem to make the bartender telling you to come in and see her about as natural as telling someone to take their next breath, no? Hope all is well John. Wish you would've been able to make the trip to CR this weekend. Cheers.

6:36 PM, May 21, 2008

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