Val has been a bit under the weather since Christmas Day. Nothing worth going to Inconvenient Care about. Just a malaise and nausea that keep her from enjoying herself fully. Perhaps it's due to the selfless task she took upon herself this holiday season to FEED THE CLUELESS.
Let the record show that Hick reported the same type of pseudo-illness after hearing about Val's health, and that The Pony simply commented that he'd been gassy. Lest you think it had something to do with the vittles that Val dished up, Genius nor his friend who also partook showed any ill effects. AND the wife of The Veteran, who was nowhere near Val's bountiful feast, was also said to be under the weather on the day after Christmas.
Wouldn't you know it? The ONE DAY that Val has big plans, her digestive system revolts. Only half of it, though! Only nausea. I swear. I NEVER get sick like that. I daresay I have a record to rival that of a certain fellow with a horse face, big teeth, and a pointed nose, who was felled by a black-and-white cookie. At least I never reached the point of refunding, like the date of a Humpty-Dumpty with a melon head.
I forced myself to follow through with our plans to hit the casino. Hick stayed home to work on hooking up an electrical service entrance for HOS in the road-blocking trailer he moved onto our upper 10 acres. So Genius drove A-Cad to take me and his buddy to the casino. Not the one by the river on the south side, where we usually go, because it's closer. But the one by the bridge, with a second level, where security thinks they're FBI. Not that there's anything wrong with that. I'm past the point of being carded. But the boys spent about 15 minutes in line waiting to be allowed entrance. There's a bit younger crowd here, compared to our usual destination.
Let the record show that nobody lost a shirt, Genius and Friend left with a pretty penny, and Val won $81. Lunch was a burger, a chicken club, and a quesadilla, eaten at a booth, which Val usually eschews in favor of a table. When told that a table would be a lengthy wait, we agreed to a booth, even though Val had reservations about getting up from it. As you may notice, I did get up from it, or you would not be reading this story.
I try not to embarrass my boys too much in public. I thought I did pretty well, even though Genius did not drop me off at the door because he thought he would have to get valet parking, so instead herded me from parking garage to fountained entrance to cobbled indoor street to casino. College boys walk so FAST, you know, even in their tight jeans and pointy-toed shoes. I think I did admirably well in keeping up. And I didn't fall on the escalator, though an unsurefooted mount on the way back down gave me an adrenaline-fueled episode of heart-racing. I didn't even comment when Genius looked over the diner where we were booth-seated, and said, "Huh. All those tables are empty except one. I don't know why there would have been a wait."
Then came the OH MOTHER moment. I took my glasses out of my pocket to read the menu. Not either of my two newest pairs, but my 3rd best pair. And when I did, THE LENS FELL OUT and bounced off the table and onto the floor.
"Oh, no! Do you see my lens anywhere? I think it went under the table."
"Well, I can't get it. You've got this table jammed so close to me."
"I can crawl under and get it." (Friend is always nicer to me than Genius).
"No, no. I can reach it, if I lay down on this side of the booth."
I managed to snag my errant lens, and found the screw laying on top of the table. But, you know, I couldn't see to put it back in. And Genius's fingers were too big to handle that tiny screw. And we didn't even want to impose such a task on Friend, also a possessor of man-hands. That meant that I held my lens in the glasses by pinching the frame. Held the glasses to my eyes like a double monocle to read the menu. We all ordered water to drink. I told the boys they could have soda, but they said, "It's FREE in the casino!" Such little savers they are, not wanting to cost Val an extra four dollars for the meal!
A good time was had by all, even though I fought the nausea the entire time, hoping not to refund my medicine I had taken that morning. We returned home at dusk, declaring that after seeing the sights, and partaking of a larger gambling environment, we still think we prefer the smaller river facility, where we have our favorite games.
I don't know when we'll be able to go again, what with Genius back at college, and going to Kansas for his internship this summer at Garmin. I'm glad I braved the bug and went anyway. Here is a picture of my sad, sad Tuesday, the day after, when I was still not feeling my best.
Thanks, Pony, for asking before you took the picture. Even though it was hard to understand the request, what with you laughing uncontrollably.
Yes, that's me, around 4:00 on Tuesday, sitting in the La-Z-Boy, not even feeling like reclining, freezing to death at 70 degrees, backwards-wearing my quilted blue plaid CPO jacket that used to be Hick's, the fake fireplace mantle in the background holding the box from Puppy Jack's shock collar that I had told The Pony repeatedly to throw away.
Life ain't pretty sometimes.