Well, at least by Phlegmy and the Goddess.
She made the trek to my little town Tuesday night, as all you readers of HER blog already know.
We met at The Greenhouse for Supper. The Supper-time Hostess is a LOT sharper than the Lunch-time Hostess. When I requested a table in the bar, by the windows, she seated both of us facing the windows. The last time I was there for lunch, the silly twit , after I had specifically told her I wanted to watch the world go by, tried to seat me with by back to the windows!
I was in the mood for a burger, so I had some Angus beef, topped by sharp cheddar and crispy bacon, with sweet potato fries on the side. Just to make them extra scrumptious, i sprinkled about 1/2 a packet of "rough" sugar on them. Miss Phlegmy was curious enough to try a few that I, in my Goddessly genorosity, shared with her. She, in turn, shared some of her divine Blue Mussel sauce.
After some equally satisfying conversation, we retired to my humble abode.
When I attended Phlegm's showing of her fantabulously gorgeous jewelry and baubles a few weeks ago, I took Boo with me, so she had met the BooBaby Girl already. I let Phlegm get settled on my couch with Boo as a body guard before I let the Beasty Boys out of their "room". When we leave the house, Ben and Tip get placed in the Master Bath as it has the least objects for them to destroy, a tile floor and a window for ventilation when the weather is mild verging on hot. Sure enough, they come bounding down the hall and then make a screeching halt, Ben executing it with much more style and grace than Tip, when they spot a STRANGER on the couch. They made her acquanitance in short order and all was friendly.
Phlegm said she thought Ben was a beautiful boy and much better behaved than some big dogs she's met. I was amazed to hear this, and very pleased. We've been trying to get him to calm down some and it was so very sweet of her to compliment his nice "company" manners.
Tip, OTOH, kept trying to climb into her lap or chew on the heels of her shoes. He needs some schooling. But we're working on it.
Then it was off to Rubber Gloves. We were NOT the oldest fans of Leslie and the Lys there. Certainkly not in our hearts. And not even chronologically. I spotted at least one guy that was older than me, which means he was around when dinos were still roaming the Earth, and a threesome that if not as old as me were most definitely between Phlegm's age and mine! So there. One of the bartenders would have gotten better tips if he just hadn't had so much facial jewelry. The heavy, hangy down kind. I can't abide that ... stuff. I think a small, tasteful stud in a guy's earlobe is kinda sexy. I can even see wanting an eyebrow piercing to be a "Rebel". And I understand there is some kind of allure with the Ladies for the tongue studs and rings, I just don't want to see it/them. But when you've got a one or two pound looking U-shaped "thing" through the septum of your nose, with cone-shaped keepers on the ends... don't expect a big tip from the Goddess. I admit, I discriminate with my money.
I was the designated driver, plus I'm a CHEAP date, when it comes to alcohol. So I stopped after a couple of wonderfully cold Harps and one Shiner Bock Draft. Maybe if I'd kept drinkin' I could have gotten into the opening act of electro/techno music. I guess I am too old, though. It was just loud, discordant noise, for the most part to me. Some of it had a good beat. But at heart, I'm a lyrics woman. I gotta be able to sing along, or at least UNDERSTAND the lyrics in order to enjoy the music.
Once Leslie took the stage, though, all that was forgotten. She OWNED the house. And everybody in it. The kids worshipped her! They were screaming ala Beatles circa 1964. It was a joy to watch all the ultra-kewl, disaffected youth of a mere 5 minutes ago, go abso bonkers over a middle-aged woman, from Ames, Iowa, rapping about the old, gold, lame jumpsuit her Mama made for her! One lucky youmng woman, who wore a sweater, and was literally sweating BUCKETS, got pulled up on stage for recognition of her "Gem Sweater". She was almost swooning with joy and pride. It was a special moment.
And I can't wait for Leslie to come back to town. I'm wearing my "Holly" sweater to her next show. I'm gonna get pulled up on that stage, you just wait and see if I don't!