03 March 2009

Drunken Sailors

So it turns out that the phrase "pets allowed" in our apartment contract actually means "cats allowed". So the plan to get a puppy is on hold. It was a sad moment, but it was made only worse by the fact that we found more than one great dog to adopt and saw Bolt, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, and Marley and Me all within a week of trying to get a puppy. I even bought a collar that was on sale for $.89!

So in an effort to make ourselves feel better we decided to eat out at the Bayou - typically considered a "bar" or "club" (we're Mormon), generally a place that offers a variety of alcoholic beverages and jazz (in this instance). Don't worry, we did not soothe our sorrows away with anything really harmful - only some over-priced Cajun food. I had previously enjoyed some sweet potato fries at their establishment. So we decided to try a full meal. We had the fries to start, gumbo soup, jambalaya, and some crawfish dish. It was all horrid and way too salty. I swear a drunk sailor must have thrown a grenade into a swamp, skimmed the top and added it to cream, rice, and salt (about a cup). I guess the Bayou decided to take it up a notch with the classic Jambalaya - which was the same as the previous dish mentioned except there was a tomato base instead of cream and had bits of spam thrown in. Our server was pushy because we didn't buy any alcoholic beverages, and the mediocre jazz didn't begin until a few minutes before we left. Plus, some guy next to us was listening in on our conversation about moving to New York and started talking about what a New Yorker he was and so on. His middle-aged date with a bad perm was ignoring his assertions and was swaying back and forth to the background music. . . all a little too close to me as we were sitting on the booth side of our tables. The night did end well though, all because John and I were able to laugh about our psychological motivations for spending money. We kept telling ourselves that we were definitely spending less money than we would have if we had a puppy. Telling ourselves this and the awful food we had definitely didn't convince us that it mattered. I want a puppy-dog.


Michemily said...

I'm sorry your dream was bashed. At least you'll have a new apartment in New York where dogs might be allowed! :) :D :)