What color is your dragon?

2000

Since Dan is about to leave Ritz (as a store manager) and that will mean that my son will resign shortly thereafter, followed by most of the rest of the crew, we all trouped over to Red Lobster.
Of course.
He is hunting a notebook computer - I think I found one on-line for $1000(PC).
He will be doing technical repairs. He gets to buy himself a car (they will pay some car expenses).
He has been working 65 hours and up weeks. So he is excited.
We all are. It's nice when someone finally gets what they want.
So I had a Margarita. I am off pain pills, in a sports bra (this was the week after surgery). [Jan 2000] This was about the time that I discovered that I have been wearing it twisted in the back for two days.
Needed the Margarita.
We had a group of younger women - and of course my son. And a few single men.
So we discuss - for the benefit of the young ones - a snipe hunt.
They had never heard of one!!!!!
How is this?
Everyone should have taken part in a snipe hunt.
It's part of childhood! Sort of on a par with cow-tipping.
These young things had never lived.
Snipes can be found anywhere in America and must be hunted at night.
Difficult to describe. They can be vicious!
Generally you hunt them in pairs in case one attacks you.
The other one can then go for help. Boy Scouts have this down pat.
Raw Cornish Game Hens.
Or a whole roasting (not roasted) chicken.
Gross.
After sufficiently freaking out the young ladies, we get our turn at balloons. A balloon lady is making the rounds.
I get a daisy.
My son gets---a dragon.
We have a discussion on the proper color for a dragon.
There are only a few of us in the restaurant nutty enough to wear these things on our heads. I am one of them.
You see, it is my birthday - or close enough not to matter.
I had the lobster tail - shrimp and scallops. My first tail. Lobster that is.
Too rich!
I had a lot of tea. (It was a large margarita - but good). We find that Troy (the Ritz camera Troy - not my model) makes Renaissance costumes! I will keep him in mind. Dan and co. like to attend the Renaissance faire.
I have never been.
I need to go.
Somehow we discuss CHP cars and how they are modified to coast at 40MPH.
Probably because my truck now has a shift in its clutch level making me squeal its tires coming out of first. My feet are trained one way and the truck is now working another. (Actually, I figured it out. I am on low-heeled shoes 'cause I'm not back in panty hose yet.)
Hard to retrain when you've driven nearly 100,000 miles in a truck in high heels.
This discussion comes up because, I am not driving home!
Especially not after having been sung to and had to blow out a candle for --- the Red Lobster singers!
We decide that my son will attempt this.
He gave away his dragon. (He's young. So were they......)He hugs the girls. (Hmmmmm.)
We make our good-byes (in case I am never seen again) and he takes the wheel.
We manage to get out of the parking lot (it is late - side streets - little traffic) (good thing!)We made it across Mowry. (The 5-lane intersection).
He blew through two stop signs. (There is a brake!)
He stopped half in the intersection of the next. He managed to get coordinated and stopped at the next.
He actually got me home (it was only a few blocks).
He actually parked it at the curb - pretty good.
First time he's tried getting under the wheel of the truck.
I say under because the kid is too big for the truck.
Why he wants a Hummer.
I forget what happened to my flower.
I refrained from kissing the sidewalk.