I had dinner with the Pisces

I was reading another author who seems to have supplanted me in local popularity. And while I was sort of amused, I spent a lot of time asking myself, “What’s the point of this article?” I had dinner with the Pisces last night, at her behest, and she wanted to try some place new, “I’ve got a hundred dollar bill just burning a hole in my pocket.” I suggested Castle Hill, and off we went. Over a relaxed dinner starting with duck spring rolls, then lamb [something or other sauce], I was bemoaning my fate as I spent the greater portion of the day working on the computer and fielding client phone calls, doing a couple of readings, and then, about the time I noticed it was a nice day, the phone rang again, and I was back at work. The original plan was to have dessert at Amy’s, right around the corner, but that got misplaced by the dessert menu. While I found the caramel sauce a just a little thin, the Amy’s Cinnamon Ice Cream and the accompanying [apple, pear, something or other] fruit cake was good. But it was still difficult to walk past Amy’s and not go in, but stuffed as we were, it was possible. I did finally find “At the drive in” — punk rock originating in El Paso — at Waterloo. But wandering around the record store without ice cream in hand, it just seems wrong. I had some comment running about the joke list. President’s play. Of course, if too much work is all I’ve got to complain about, then I’m not really in a position to complain, but it seems like years since I’ve had a nice, hot, sizzling walk around the lake. Been years since I’ve perspired, nice, clean, honest sweat.