So tonight S and I had a daggy date night because, frankly, we were way too exhausted from the last 2 week’s vagaries and activity to do much else. We drove the 2 minutes down to our local neighbourhood (two whole minutes!), and elected to have sitdown dinner in what we regard to be the BEST pizza shop in our area.
Unfortunately, what is the BEST pizza shop turned out not to be the best PASTA restaurant – I mean, I have many times had to eat substandard pasta. But this was BAD. And the thing is, truly bad food is hard to come by.
S’ lasagne came drowning in sauce that tasted like Heinz baked beans, I kid you not – it was like the cook had opened a tin of baked beans, emptied half a bottle of ketchup, and stirred it all in a pot before plonking it on some flat lasagne noodles. Awful.
My carbonara came out also drenched in sauce, but which was what can only be described as a GLUE LIKE consistency. I kid you not. I ate about 3 mouthfuls before declaring my mouth unfit for the experience. The bacon was flaccid and uncooked. The whole mess sat unappetisingly on my plate for about 3 minutes. We looked at each other and simultaneously rose from our chairs, declaring dinner DONE.
It’s almost inconceivable that a place that has consistently WOW pizza can cook pasta so tremendously badly, OR that they are fully booked every Friday night. Just, wow.
We were so tired that we almost didn’t even care, and decided to salvage the meal at the local pub, with a glass of wine and some dessert.
We sat by their open fire and spent a delightful 45 minutes just sipping and chatting and cuddling, and things were just sublime.
Then we popped into the GAMING LOUNGE with our desserts in hand, and here’s where things got awesome.
You see, I’ve never played the pokies before. And so beginners luck was MAH FRIEND ladies and gentlemen, we were just ON FYAH. PLUS, we found the one machine that seemed to just keep PAYING OUT (on 2 cent games, but STILL YAYY ME). Also, it was rather inappropriately called “Oriental something or other”. YAYY for politically incorrect machines, because let me tell you, S and I razzle dazzled that place.
All the old birds and their henpecked husbands were staring at us at once wistful (lucky machine) and disapprovingly (clearly our youth, vigour and raucous laughter didn’t suit how seriously they took their gaming). One older lady even took up a firm position gazing at our screen. Seriously, this machine was the BOMB GIGGEDY of pokies machine – every 5 button presses, we got something back in value (from 10 cents, all the way to $8 at one stage!)
In the end it was just such a happy hour – literally. And FREE (we started with $30, and miraculously, walked out with $30! Go us!) – PLUS, S got charged seniors prices for the sundaes (quiet chortle. Make what you will of that, but we are insisting it’s because the girl thought we were lovely).
I still don’t see how pokies can actually be alluring, let alone addictive, but sometimes the most fun is spent doing the daggy things, with someone you love. Especially when the “daggy date night” is followed by coming home and suitcase packing with the most hideous face mask on, whilst your honey watches the golf in his pajamas. Oh yeah, that’s how we roll on a Friday night.