chaz720.net - journal

July 14, 2003

Don't tell me to stop. Tell the rain not to drop, tell the wind not to blow, 'cause you said so. Tell the sun not to shine, not to get up this time, no, no. Let it fall by the way, but don't leave me where I lay down. Tell me, "love isn't true, it's just something that we do." Tell me everything I'm not, but please don't tell me to stop. Tell the leaves not to turn, but don't ever tell me I'll learn, no, no. Take the black off a crow, but don't tell me I have to go. Tell the bed not to lay, like the open mouth of a grave, yeah. Not to stare up at me, like a calf down on its knees. Please don't, please don't, please don't tell me to stop.

Work was great last week, blah blah blah. There's a new theme entitled "highway" in the home section if you care to throw a gander, but now on with the show...

So Friday we all decided to go miniature golfing over at this big place in Ft Lauderdale. It was fun, I suck at miniature golf though. I kept getting either 2 on a hole or a 20 depending, almost invariably, on how my second shot went. Our group was bringing up the rear of the outing and I think we were the only ones not actually keeping score. After that we hung around while Kendal's brother (whose name eludes me) wanted to go on this giant pendulum swing thing where they draw you back with a winch and let you swing down 180ft really fast. It looked kinda cool but meh, I'll find something better to spend the 20 bucks on :P

Saturday was lazy getting started, after waking up I lay in bed staring at the ceiling with my headphones listening to random music. Later we met up and drove out to Las Olas and took a water taxi around some of the various waterways in that area. Mostly spent staring open mouthed at the houses and yachts stationed around the place. We stopped at a place that had a nifty looking beer garden on the water and had a couple drinks and chilled while the sun went down. I busted out my one and only card trick I can do, it was excellent :)

Later we went to a restaurant called The Big City Tavern. We saw they had a menu posted and the prices seemed pretty reasonable so we went in and asked for a table. The wait wasn't going to be too bad, but looking around we were way underdressed to be there. In a compromise, however, we just got a table outside which ended up being nice anyway. I had this almond-trout entree (okay so I'm a sucker for fish... and palm trees, don't forget palm trees) which was very good.

Brian and I had noticed an inordinate number of attractive women walking out of the restaurant but didn't think much of it until he went to the washroom and came out claiming that somewhere deep within the confines of the stock room they must have some sort of machine from which the production of attractive women is not only possible, but rampant. Skeptical, I entered the establishment in question to investigate further. Sure enough, the population was rife with women who could just as easily have been strutting down a runway as having dinner there. Ironically, there I was in my white t-shirt proclaiming that I was "generally feigning interest." More inappropriate, I don't feel it could have been.

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