Eleven Years Later

Leah and I just celebrated our eleventh wedding anniversary this past weekend. Aunt Sis gave us the night off from the kids on Saturday, so we got a hotel in downtown Dallas and enjoyed a taste of freedom. I found us a hotel in downtown that is a renovated building modeled in a European style. So, even though the room was pretty small by Western standards, Leah really liked the European feel.

After dinner at Bob's Steak and Chop House, we found a Starbucks and enjoyed some coffee together, and then we spent a while just driving around downtown at night. It was pretty nice. Before long, though, we found a parking area and got out to walk around a little. This is important: I put the required $5 in the unattended box; Leah and I both double-checked the parking slot that I was in; and Leah (being more familiar with downtown Dallas than I) explained how to fold the money so it would fit in the box. More on that later.

So, we walked around a little and found out that Dallas has a Coyote Ugly bar. Have you ever see the show on TV where they are trying to find new bartenders for Coyote Ugly? I don't really get into reality TV, but I've seen part of one episode. They weren't hiring for the Dallas location. As a matter of fact, it was borderline false advertising. On the other hand, though, the name of the bar is Coyote Ugly, so what do you expect?

By the way, if you don't already know, Coyote Ugly is apparently a term used for the girl that looked "good enough" when you were drunk, but when you're sober the next morning and you're arm is under her, you'd rather gnaw your arm off (like a coyote gnawing off his leg to escape a trap) than wake her. I wouldn't know from personal experience, but they say that's where the bar got its name.

Leah and I did go in, though, just to say we'd been in a Coyote Ugly, and we felt really out of place. We weren't wearing nearly enough leather and chains and neither of us rides a Harley. We sat at the bar for a few minutes, though, and watched the people. There were several clumps of people in the place and this one guy just wandering around the room by himself. Well, after a bit we were ready to go, and Leah got up to use the restroom before we left. Here's the part that I'll probably regret telling you, but it's pretty funny: Not two seconds after she got up, this wandering guy grabs her barstool and sits next to me. I didn't notice at first, but I turned that direction and there he was. He says, "Hey, man, how's it going?" And not in a gruff manly voice, if you catch my drift.

If I was out of place; this guy was like being from another planet in this joint, and how is it that I can go in a borderline biker bar that's known for scantily clad bartenders and patrons dancing on the bar (none of which happened while we were there) – basically, a man's kind of place just this side of a stripper bar – and get hit on by another guy? Don't think that didn't bring my self confidence down. Poor Leah had to stroke my ego and tell me how manly and strong I am for the next hour.

So, we walked a little more and ended up standing in line for a dance club called Purgatory. While standing there, one of the doormen came out and addressed the crowd saying that if you had on athletic gear, baggy clothing, or any kind of tennis shoes you might as well get out of line because they were not going to let you in. They weren't going to argue about it, they weren't going to make exceptions, they weren't letting you in. About that time I notice the guy just in front of us in line. He's got on a jersey from his favorite basketball team, pants so baggy it's a wonder they were staying up, and high-top tennis shoes. How does a person get dressed and violate every section of their dress code policy at once? Pretty amazing.

After we danced a bit, we headed back to the truck. Guess what I found there? A parking ticket. It just says that I failed to follow the instructions on a sign, but I have no idea which sign I missed. I've got to call them in a bit and find out why I'm being charged $30 on top of the $5 that I already paid, but I really wonder if I didn't just fund someone's late night McDonald's habit with my first $5. Lesson learned: avoid unattended lots; there's no way to prove that you actually paid.

Next morning, we went out for a nice breakfast and returned home to find that the children and Aunt Sis had wallpapered the door to the house with notes describing their adventures. For example, we read things like: "Reagan won the food fight," and "Dixie doesn't really like taffy," and "Is four bowls of cereal too much?" It was really funny, and the kids enjoyed putting them together. Overall, we had a great weekend, and we were very thankful for Aunt Sis giving us a night off on our anniversary.