Sweet thing, sugar, honey, babycakes
Sweet thing, sugar, honey, babycakes are not ingredients for any recipe that I know.
The Princess said this was just "the way things are in the South, Daddy." I think she was right. Actually, it seems to me to be a highly developed form of tip hustling from servers. The bar tender at the hotel did it and she called me all of those terms of endearment in less than three minutes.
When we were at dinner at Morton's in Atlanta, our server, who was a very attractive but very married young blonde woman, kept putting her hands on my shoulders when she came by our table to check on the meal. For a moment, I thought I was in a Southern Baptist revival meeting and they were fixing to do a laying on of the hands.
I looked around for a big dunking tank and such like that.
I aksed The Princess and her friends if they could give me a really big "Amennnnnnnn". They gave me the big Amennnnnnnn. Boy, did I ever feel saved.
The Princess wanted to know why I thought our server was tip hustling. It seemed obvious to me. There was no need to touch my shoulders to learn how the meal was going. One quick glance at the emptying plates would be an excellent clue as to how the meal was going. I told The Princess the server was very married.
The Princess was surprised to know that. I said I looked at her wedding ring finger as soon as I sat down at the table. This is a bad old habit of mine from when I was a youngster and a junior officer in the United States Navy. One of my Navy ROTC instructors told us to look first for either a ring or a tan line to avoid unpleasant entanglements. It made a lot of sense then and it still makes sense to day. She had a chunk of diamond on her finger that looked about the size of a pea.
It was big alright.
Besides, I live in Redondo Beach and work in Los Angeles. That's 2,000 miles more or less from where she was. I think that was her picture in the dictionary alongside the phrase "geographically undesirable."
Too bad for me. She did have one of those to die for Southern accents. Oh well, I was over as soon as I walked off of plane in Los Angeles.
I saw a young Latina walking around the baggage claim area, wearing only tight shorts, a too small tee shirt, designer sunglasses of course, and incredibly unsafe high heels.
Aaaah so good to be back home in Los Angeles.
We had rain again today. Naturally, it was heaviest during my drive home. I think I was able to average around 15 miles an hour so it took me close to two hours to get home. What a waste of time.
On the plus side, I did feel good driving my high fuel economy Honda as I crawled past those lumbering SUV gas hogs. Mid-range gasoline is now around $2.50 a gallon by my house.
Anyway, time for me to go drift off and do something useful like take out the trash while the rain lets up, gentle readers.
Be well and stay happy.
The Princess said this was just "the way things are in the South, Daddy." I think she was right. Actually, it seems to me to be a highly developed form of tip hustling from servers. The bar tender at the hotel did it and she called me all of those terms of endearment in less than three minutes.
When we were at dinner at Morton's in Atlanta, our server, who was a very attractive but very married young blonde woman, kept putting her hands on my shoulders when she came by our table to check on the meal. For a moment, I thought I was in a Southern Baptist revival meeting and they were fixing to do a laying on of the hands.
I looked around for a big dunking tank and such like that.
I aksed The Princess and her friends if they could give me a really big "Amennnnnnnn". They gave me the big Amennnnnnnn. Boy, did I ever feel saved.
The Princess wanted to know why I thought our server was tip hustling. It seemed obvious to me. There was no need to touch my shoulders to learn how the meal was going. One quick glance at the emptying plates would be an excellent clue as to how the meal was going. I told The Princess the server was very married.
The Princess was surprised to know that. I said I looked at her wedding ring finger as soon as I sat down at the table. This is a bad old habit of mine from when I was a youngster and a junior officer in the United States Navy. One of my Navy ROTC instructors told us to look first for either a ring or a tan line to avoid unpleasant entanglements. It made a lot of sense then and it still makes sense to day. She had a chunk of diamond on her finger that looked about the size of a pea.
It was big alright.
Besides, I live in Redondo Beach and work in Los Angeles. That's 2,000 miles more or less from where she was. I think that was her picture in the dictionary alongside the phrase "geographically undesirable."
Too bad for me. She did have one of those to die for Southern accents. Oh well, I was over as soon as I walked off of plane in Los Angeles.
I saw a young Latina walking around the baggage claim area, wearing only tight shorts, a too small tee shirt, designer sunglasses of course, and incredibly unsafe high heels.
Aaaah so good to be back home in Los Angeles.
We had rain again today. Naturally, it was heaviest during my drive home. I think I was able to average around 15 miles an hour so it took me close to two hours to get home. What a waste of time.
On the plus side, I did feel good driving my high fuel economy Honda as I crawled past those lumbering SUV gas hogs. Mid-range gasoline is now around $2.50 a gallon by my house.
Anyway, time for me to go drift off and do something useful like take out the trash while the rain lets up, gentle readers.
Be well and stay happy.
posted by Chuck Reinhardt at 8:03 PM
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