A Date Night Spent in Handcuffs.

**Edited to remove 2nd band's name, because I am now painfully aware that I did not need to add it in order to tell this humorous tale. However, the tale stands, because... well, it happened and it's true. Sincere apologies, however, for initially including the 2nd band's band name. I'm lame and totally embarrassed for it. Blech.**


Scandalous title!

note to self: do not make habit of googling "handcuffs".
apparently these things aren't just for law enforcement anymore.

Okay, date night recap:

8:00PM: Chris plays a show with a friend's band called Flyover-States. (GREAT show, GREAT music.) They are opening for another band.

8:45PM: Chris' set is over, so he packs up his drums and sets them on the side of the stage. He says he'd like to stay for one or two of the 2nd band's songs, and then we can go out for our super-rare and fantastic night on the town after that. I tell him that's fine.

8:50PM: 2nd Band starts to play. I am ready to leave for date night.

8:52PM: At this point, there are only a few people in the room to watch the show. Leaving feels a little bit awkward.

8:53PM: 2nd band asks for a volunteer. None of the people in the room move a muscle. Chris runs up on stage and offers to volunteer, thinking it will be something silly and quick.

8:54PM: 2nd Band guy proceeds to HANDCUFF a briefcase to my husband's wrist, thereby declaring him the 'Keeper Of The Donuts'. (?!) Then he tells Chris he can go sit back down. The briefcase is STILL HANDCUFFED TO HIS WRIST. I swallow my tongue.



9:00PM-10:00PM: 2nd band continues to play through their ENTIRE set. I bounce between rage and amusement at our situation. Our date night is quickly waning. Chris needs to go to the bathroom, but does not know how to do this with a briefcase handcuffed to his wrist. He also would like a cup of coffee from the snack-bar. (At least I can help him with that.) We sit. And wait. And wait. We cannot leave.

10:00PM: 2nd Band announces that this will be their final song. It is a rap about donuts. He calls Chris back up to the stage. He opens the briefcase and pulls out some donuts in plastic baggies. He tosses them to the audience.



10:00PM and ONE SECOND: We leave to try and salvage the rest of our date night. We are tired, and the handcuffs have put us in a funky mood. I feel mad but cannot stop laughing. I now feel tired and unexcited about date night. We decide to head down to Bricktown to get a nice drink and relax and talk and enjoy a smokey treat. (HAHAH Shannon & Jen: a 'smokey treat' is what we call our smokes of choice. For Chris, it is usually a tobacco pipe. For me? A clove cigarette. Mmmm Yummy. But BAD for you. Yes, very very BAD. No, smokey treats are not beef jerky, but that might be one of the funniest things I've ever heard in all of my life. Can you imagine us looking forward to a nice drink and some BEEF JERKY? HAHHA. Anywho...) At this point, part of me just wants to curl up in bed.

10:30PM: We pay $5 to park and we walk. We pass packs of young scantily dressed girls who are heading to the clubs- leaving whiffs of 350 different perfumes in their wake. We laugh about the handcuffs. The air is crisp. Things are looking up.

10:50PM: We find a really nice bar that has a rooftop patio and decide to get a drink and sit under the stars.

10:55PM: Chris suddenly stops in his tracks and slaps his pockets. (This is never a good sign.) He's forgotten his ID in his truck back home.

10:56PM: The sky falls down on our heads. We are crushed. No yummy drinks for us.

11:00PM: We stop in at a Pizza joint and eat a couple slices of greasy pizza. We meet the Italian owner, a man who is very friendly and kind. If he isn't in the Mafia, he should be. I think he'd be real good at it.

11:30PM: We walk back to our car. I'm craving a martini. We decide to drive allllll the way back home to get Chris' ID and then try to find a bar somewhere near our house. (Ha.) Chris says he thinks he knows where there is a martini bar near our neighborhood. So, we drive back home.

12:00AM: Got the ID. Head to the 'Martini Bar'. Turns out to be a place with blacked-out windows. We hear music PUMPING inside, and can see the faint neurotic pulsing of a strobe light from underneath the door. There are wiggies hanging around outside. We turn tail and LEAVE.

12:15AM: I am home. In bed. Somewhat relieved that date night has come to an end. The should-be-Mafia man's pizza is not agreeing with my stomach.

12:30AM: I am asleep.

*****************************

The night didn't go very well, but the very next night, Chris completely and totally redeemed it by coming home from the store with everything needed for our own in-home date night. He got three GREAT romantic comedy movies, lots of buttery popcorn, my favorite candy (Sour Patch Kids), and some Red Vines for him. We watched "The Holiday" and snuggled on the couch. I LOVED this movie more than any human being probably ever has before. I don't know why.



The evening was perfect, if for no other reason than the fact that there were no donuts or handcuffs or briefcases to be found anywhere.

Chris and I are not difficult to please... All we ask is that delicious pastries are not used against us for hostage purposes during our precious hours of childless freedom. Is this TOO MUCH TO ASK?

Apparently so. Hehe.