Fear the Crab

Happy Birthday to Me!Maile took me out to dinner at the Prince Court. We had some Inniskilin, which was only our second sampling of that label. The first time we drank, it had a lychee taste to it. This time it had an apple juice taste. Both were good.

The buffet was pretty good. We both took from the salad bar, and “oysters in luau sauce.” Maile had some “crispy baked chicken with white sauce,” potatoes au gratin, some bbq meat that looked like something you’d find on a grill. I had some prime rib in addition to the bbq meat. It doesn’t seem like much, but past experience with buffets teaches us that our eyes are bigger than our stomachs. This way, we had room for dessert, which consisted of bread pudding, chocolate cream pie, and some strawberry cake.

Then we walked it off by cruising the DFS, and saying hi to old friends. Needless to say, nobody recognized me at first. Granted, the weight gain, long hair, and general scruffiness probably led them to think I was a criminal. A well-dressed, but scruffy, criminal. Too bad the Georges and Irene weren’t there. I haven’t spoken to them in ages.

I think tomorrow after work I’m going to wash the car. And if time permits, I’m going to wash Maile’s car, too.