This past weekend, Phenom treated me to a quickie trip to NOLA for my birthday. Pretty much, we both needed a couple of days to just get drunk and eat and be unfettered by deadlines, email, and work. It was lovely. (And, I got a shiny trinket that catches the light and keeps me entertained.)
We are big fans of spending afternoons on bar stools and chatting up the bartender or other patrons. We met a grandfather from Atlanta who was screamingly funny. We met a young attorney from DC who had ducked out for a wander around his old college stomping grounds while his wife and 6 month old baby caught a nap. The great majority of the folks we chat up are funny, interesting, and well worth the afternoon tab.
We have one particular bar where we always have our "last drinks." We have known the bartender, Glenn, for years. He knows how I like my bloody marys. On this last morning of drinks, we were seated with an older couple (and by older, I suspect they had at least 15 years on me). They both seemed more than familiar with the staff and area, so frequent visitors to NOLA. The husband thought himself quite amusing and would "crack jokes" loudly. Thing was, he was more crude than amusing. I really didn't need to hear about the mints he bought his wife to make oral sex tastier for her. I didn't really appreciate (as I'm sure Glenn agreed) his observation as to how Glenn got to be so skilled at shaking drinks.
His wife feigned being embarrassed by his boorishness, but she tittered right along with him. We pretty much ignored him, hoping that he'd get the message.
As we were leaving, the boor called out to the Phenom and asked if I were "wife or girlfriend"?
Phenom said "both, and best friend" as he put his arm around me and we wandered out into the harsh sunlight and the taxi back to the airport.