22 February 2008

The happy couple...


Guinness and Jameson, together again.

A brief moment of relaxation at Nanny O'Briens, with spouse and a re-broadcast UEFA match on the tube.

It was also a celebration of sorts. M's leg (broken at the knee) has now healed enough to crutch about without wearing that corset-like, steel/velcro/nylon immobilizing brace thing. Thus, without having one leg forced straight, our dining-out options have exploded. Previously, we were limited to places with booth seating, so the leg had a place to rest without being a hazard to everyone.

Precious few indie pubs are good for that: they may have the right seats, but not many. And the after-work crowds make it a raw gamble.

So to play it safe and get booths and ample floor-space, we've been stuck with wretched "family style" chain restaurants in the suburbs. And after suffering for weeks with all that gutless, milktoast terror with uniformed waitress drones with PLEASE, KILL ME etched into their lifeless eyes as they prattle on about their special taco salad which had been shipped in huge bulk quantities from some corporate hive in Joplin, Missouri, available at a special discount for senior citizens, the recently lobotomized, and other fans of FOX News, etc.........

A newly bendable knee means we can get back to reality.

Hence, a proper pub. And a proper pint. I couldn't quite see which countries were playing in the match, but in that comfortable moment, it didn't matter. Cheers.

5 comments:

epota said...

Hey, you know that we thrive on those wretched "family style" chain restaurants, don't you? And not every waitress is droning "Please, kill me." I think some are already there! :-)

Truest sign you're in a suburban restaurant: When you ask the server if they could hold the onion on a particular dish and they respond saying they can't -- it's "already mixed together."

Shudder.

But three cheers to you and the missus for A) her healing process, and B) getting out again!

rothko said...

You're making me thirsty with that photo. Though I kind of prefer the Bushmills back. Just a technicality. Cheers to it almost being St. Patty's Day!

IntangibleArts said...

Rothko: More than just a technicality, good sir. I just discovered the "black bush" Bushmills, and it was a lovely thing.

Epota: Thanks, captain bro. And I tell you, life that comes already "mixed together" is no life at all. And I'll have the onions, so no worries there.

Reya Mellicker said...

The two drinks make a lovely couple, as do you and the lovely wordwitch, I'm sure. I'll see for myself one of the days very soon. Yes!!

As for the look in the eyes of the droning waitresses, I can tell you from my years of restaurant experience, that look doesn't mean please kill me. No. More like please kill the restaurant manager/cooks/other waiters/hostess/busboys/other customers. Kill. them. all.

Waiting tables is a really strenuous job.

IntangibleArts said...

Reya: I believe it. I'm sure if I had to deal with "the public" in that quantity, I'd be in a heavily medicated stupor in a psychiatric prison by now. Or maybe Guantanamo?

My state of Joie de Vivre is fully dependent upon taking the world in controlled doses. Prolonged exposure to shopping malls and national-chain "family style" restaurants lets too many demons in, sometimes...