At oh dark thirty” the phone rang, “Kick her out, bud, time to fish.”
I glanced at the alarm clock, cursed, yanked on my shorts, grabbed my gear, and slammed out the door.
Late.
Me. I overslept. Alarm clock, which I had carefully set the night before, didn’t go off.
Bummer.
Navigation on through the “under construction” freeway also proved problematic.
“The fishing gods just don’t want us there early, I guess,” opined the driver.
I opined nothing, being too early, and me having missed a wake-up alarm. I was a little rattled.
“We were out last weekend and got skunked,” he continued.
I am, however, a good luck charm. To the tune of at least two fish, one of which was pretty good, by my standards.
Cartwright’s for BBQ, afterwards, as is the custom, and had enough leftover to carry some home.
Got home, and I went and visited the diabetic cat. Got claws stuck in my while I was brandishing the syringe, so I gave up and came home, took a nap. Left a call for the other guy who does the cat, to let him know it might take two of us to tackle the little feller, as that one cat was not in a good mood.
Finally got my nap, and finally got out for Saturday night in Austin. Met with Mr. Gemini and friends, for dinner and drinks + comic commentary for the original Terminator at the Alamo. The commentary was actually quite amusing.
Arnold, as the Terminator, takes a hit. He keeps on coming, “He’s not human – he’s Republican.”
Guess you had to be there.
