halfway to dead with guest star Sam Adams, Mayor of Portland
Yes, it’s my 45th birthday next week, which makes me officially halfway to dead. “If you’re lucky,” Steve sez. (My response: ???. I think, before it’s too late, he needs to take some “hints” from our Facebook friends on how to talk to ladies. Sheesh.) In honor of the big day, we went out for a little birthday dinner tonight at Pizza Fino, over in beautiful historic downtown Kenton, North Portland, U.S.A.
Of course our poor, beleaguered, misunderstood and sometimes, allegedly, drinkin’, drivin’ and cryin’ Mayor of Portland, Ore., Sam Adams, was there with three of his associates, constituents, friends, what have you.
That sentence was too long, I’ll start over.
I’m assuming the associates were picking up the tab, since between lawyer bills and all he can’t afford to make his mortgage payments. (“Portland: We’re So Broke Our Mayor Can’t Afford A Grown-up Boyfriend OR His Mortgage.”)
The staff was playing, as always, a lot of really sucky music that I believe the kids refer to as “techno.” That, combined with the fact that we had to wait an hour for our food, combined with the fact that the mayor was there, combined with the fact that our waitress was so absolutely beautiful and sweet that I couldn’t even hold the whole “food never arriving thing” against her, gave me what I refer to as “fucking headache behind my left eye.” Then, out of nowhere, they played ZZ Top, I’m Bad, I’m Nationwide, I’m assuming in honor of my birthday and the mayor.
Only he isn’t and I am.
“We going downtown in the middle of the night
We laughing and Im jokin and we feelin alright”
You know how old Wacky Mommy was when that song came out? That’s right. I was a freshman in high school and already getting into bars and never getting carded when I bought booze at the store. You poor kids nowadays, I feel for you. Don’t drink and drink, though! That’s bad.
Then they played a bunch more techno crap, I drank a lot of water, tried to figure out if that was our friend Babe across the way, I think it was, why couldn’t they have seated Babe next to us instead of the damn mayor, I love Babe… Finally the food showed up and my son ate an entire large cheese pizza all by himself, Wacky Girl split her pasta with pesto with me and we just chilled.
More techno.
Then again out of nowhere, they played “Low Rider.” Which I’m assuming Steve took as a hint to buy me the ’64 Impala with hi-jackers that I’ve only been wanting my entire goddamn life how many hints do I have to drop?
“I’m dropping hints/
candy for candy-coated tongue”
— Violent Femmes
That Impala, it was born the same year as me. I’m telling you — as soon as we get a garage I’m getting an Impala to put in it. You heard it here first.
Then I heard the lady at the table next to me tell her husband, sotto voce, “She’s 44.” Husband grunts. Wife continues, “She looks old for her age.” I’m sure she wasn’t talking about moi, as I am not just incredibly yummy and hot, but also Bad and not just limited to Nationwide — I’m international, mama. And the mortgage, she is getting paid.
, 
.
