I'm back

Man, I’m gonna have to refund subscription fees for the way I’ve been ghost lately. Check’s in the mail right now, and it should be there by the time you get done reading this.  Don’t believe me?  Go check.
Well, International Baba Day was yesterday.  It was a much more subdued affair than usual.  The children weren’t dancing in the streets in third world countries as they usually do.  No fireworks or any of that.  International Baba was…tired as all get out.  Did Int’l Baba’s Eve at a concert–headliner, Erykah Badu–with my fiancee, and that was pretty much good for me.  That, spades and some Playstation.
But ’nuff bout that…lemme tell you about how country I really am.
My fiancee’s birthday was a few days ago, and we did a few things during the day before dinner at a classy lil dinner club in Durham.  I’m not a member of this place–it’s far too classy for that–but I’m just classy enough to know a couple of people that work there, so they lined us up with a room for dinner.
This was one of those spots where they make the Caesar salad in front of you, starting with the anchovy and rolling from there.  Where all the wine clings to the glass.  All that classiness.
Soon as your butt hits the chair, there’s a napkin in your lap.  At first, I thought somebody was trying to get me, and I’m not even sure in what way.  I just know I’m not accustomed to people having their hands in my lap, and certainly not used to that being treated as professional courtesy.  But hey hey, I’ll take it.
Now, the countriness part.  I told my fiancee that I felt like one of the Beverly Hillbillies in that spot.  30 minutes after dinner, I was going to ask if we could get in the cement pond.  Dude, they brought your boy a filet mignon you could cut with a butterknife.  Literally.  And I’m talking about paper thin slices.  Shoot, look at this one.
Folks even brought out the souffle and poured the chocolate in the little hole and everything.  And did I mention wine?  I even quit drinking a while ago, but I couldn’t let that good vino pass.  I forgot to ask them to bring me the box so I could find out where I could get some for myself.
(Also, if I didn’t mention the wine, I think you can see a bit of it in my eyes in that photo.)
I mean, really.  I’ve lived a fairly privileged upbringing, but I never have really done a lot of time in places where I couldn’t imagine hanging out with any other patrons.  Staff?  All good with me.  The folks at other tables?  I’m just glad I didn’t have to walk past them, cuz the first person to ask for a refill was gonna have a real hard time, can you dig it?
But overall, good stuff.
In fact, ’twas the nicest dinner I’ve ever had.  Without question.  Great company, too.
Always a winner when you can manage to exceed the expectations of a woman that’s curious to see what you’ve come up with for her birthday.  Not like there was a checklist or fear of evaluation, but coming correct always makes the world a happier place.
(Dang it, I can’t upload that photo…just know that it’s as coontastic as you’d probably imagine a picture of me eating a piece of steak with a big ol’ glass of wine in front of me.  Oh, I love being almost totally impervious to embarrassment.)
Oh, and Badu was pretty incredible.  The highlight…you know how they love to make us beg them to come back stage?  Then, there’s so surprised and overwhelmed that they break out some fancy version of some big hit they just somehow forgot to do before?
Well, she ran that game on us.  comes back with cowbells in her hand.  She starts playing som enotes that sound familiar, but I couldnt’ place ’em.  Then she came with the verse.
“Is you rollin?  Is you rollin?  Is you rollin?  Is you rollin?”
then she took it all the way…
“Bitch I might be…”
Only Erykah Badu would treat the green tea crowd to Gucci Mane.  From what I could tell, only my fiancee and I knew the song.  However, we weren’t the only ones that appreciated the entertainment of it all.  Quite a few of them deep folks was lovin’ it.
Birthdays, man.  always a winner.
This weekend’s my big brother’s wedding.   Add to the celebrations, baby.  Problem is…with all this stuff that’s been going on, all I wanted for my birthday was sleep…and I needed it so bad I didn’t get to rap with everyone before I went to sleep.  My apologies, and thanks for the happy happys.