Thursday night, I went out on another "outing" with Paul for his belated birthday. We went to Dave and Busters, had dinner, then went on the game side for a little light-hearted fun. Not too many kids running around, but lots of grown-ups. We played on the race games, we stood mesmerized at this one lady playing that game where you drop tokens to make more tokens fall into the bin. Paul became so focused on Shakira dancing on the television, that he managed to accidently rack himself on a handrail. Serves him right. Paul then wanted to do this picture thing where the machine takes the picture of a guy and a girl, then creates this image as to what your child would look like. His idea...not mine.
To avoid the further ridicule of my coworkers (who already say I am pregnant with Paul's offspring), I will not be posting this picture online...so don't even ask.
However, at least it's good to know that our daughter will not be ugly, but according to the computer, she will have a bad haircut. I told him that he is not allowed to take our children to Fantastic Sams...ever. He kept the picture, telling me he would give it to his mother because she is always complaining that he hasn't produced her any grandchildren yet.
There was this one section of the arcade, a racing game that can pit up to 7 people against each other in a NASCAR-type race. One of the fun things, there is a camera trained on every single person playing, with screens above the game consoles, and those screens display the "drivers". There was this one guy so into his game, he didn't notice the half-dozen people standing behind him, laughing hysterically because he looked so funny...eyes wide open, mouth open in some sort of focused sneer. He looked like Dad of Chucky...with a mop of gray hair.
We stood there and laughed, bent over with tears streaming down our faces, for a good 15 minutes.
After that, we drove home, stopping by a couple swankier-than-thou subdivisions to oogle at the new houses that are being built down the road from my house. Yes, it's somewhat depressing to look at $300K+ houses, then return to my dumpy apartment. I always wonder what these people do for a living, to be able to afford to live in such expensive places. My only answer is that these people are up to their eyeballs in debt. We did note, that a lot of them were for sale, so maybe my guess isn't too far from the truth. Maybe some of these people have to work 4 jobs and live off of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and top ramen noodles...all for the sake of keeping up appearances.
Nothing else exciting, other than I almost got hammered by a speeding cop car on my way to work. The little douchebag had his lights and sirens running. I was just making my left-hand turn because the light was green, and he comes barreling over the hill like someone announced a sale at Krispy Kreme. Little asshat didn't even brake! Aren't they supposed to slow down somewhat when they go over hills and pass through intersections?? It could have ended a lot worse than me giving him the finger after he had already passed.
Had I been going any faster, I would have made the evening news.