“Uh, Zoe. In a shocking twist, I’m suddenly available tonight.”
“Are you kidding me? Well, I don’t have to work. Let‘s do something fabulous.”
“And I’m willing to throw down some cash. Let‘s go OUT.”
“Yeah, me too! In that case, I need to start getting ready.”
We talked Kate into joining us and decided on fancy, adult dinner at Absinthe. Poor Kate not only had her car stolen, she got it back from the cops to find used condoms and dirty underwear strewn about.
“They used it for hooking, Beth!” Kate screamed into the phone.
“So, then, we’ll be taking you to dinner.”
Sadly, whilst Kate’s car was in the hands of a working girl, Kate used a rental, which she, ummm, crashed. We talked our way into a table at the fabulously packed Absinthe, a restaurant I had yet to enjoy but eyed for years. Over goat cheese, ahi and incredible wine, we enjoyed a hilarious and long dinner, laughing across our low lit table, eyeing hot boys around us, and flirting with our foreign waiter.
Three hours later, we’re brought the dessert menu. We’ll have that. And then, maybe that. For some unknown reason, my intellectually superior roommate ordered decaf coffee and I insisted upon regular.
After what has to be one of the better times I’ve had, the three of us headed out onto Hayes Street, group hugged goodbye, and Zoe and I headed home. Zoe, stuffed and toasted, fell asleep immediately. Hmmm, I’m incredibly full. I’ve had more wine than I can remember, but I’m awake. Wide awake.
After wading through Eric Estrada’s time-share infomercials, which I sadly find tempting, I found myself watching “Battlefield Britain” on KQED at 3am. Now, before you roll your eyes and say, “Spots, there are better things on at 3am”, let me tell you about my new favorite show.
Battlefield Britain is hosted by two guys, both British, one fucking hot. For an hour, from 3 to 4am, I learned all about this huge war in 60A.D. when Britain revolted from the Roman Empire who had enslaved them. Apparently, a fabulous Queen with an unpronounceable name got so pissed after the public rapings of her young daughters, she rallied 100,000 pissed of Brits to violently overthrow the government. Who knew? What makes the show so fabulous, in addition to the hot guy wandering about Battlefields in Wales, is that they have re-enactments and interviews with actors pretending to be actual warriors, slaves or Roman assholes.
Finally, at 4, I forced myself to sleep, whereupon I had highly inappropriate dreams which make me question my subconscious. I should’ve stayed up and watched the second installment of Battlefield Britain. It would have been far less psychologically damaging. If you find yourself wide awake in the early morning hours, do yourself a favor and check out Battlefield Britain, if for no other reason than to see a hot guy with a hot accent wandering around empty fields, taking about British military strategy…