Sunday fun

We had a belated holiday dinner with the ESL teachers yesterday. What a treat. We went to The Keg steakhouse. It was one of those evenings where the hours passed effortlessly and the conversation and laughter never lulled. We stayed so long that the server asked us to pay and go to the bar if we wanted anything else. Poor guy, Sunday nights are usually early ones in the restaurant biz.

It was just yesterday that I got the play on words for Wile E Coyote. Wily. Duh. It only took me forty years. I used to love that show. The winner of the Darwin Awards reminded me of the cartoon:

The Arizona Highway Patrol came upon a pile of smoldering metal embedded in the side of a cliff rising above the road at the apex of a curve. The wreckage resembled the site of an airplane crash, but it was a car. The type of car was unidentifiable at the scene. Police investigators finally pieced together the mystery. An amateur rocket scientist... had somehow gotten hold of a JATO unit (Jet Assisted Take Off, actually a solid fuel rocket) that is used to give heavy military transport planes an extra 'push' for taking off from short airfields. He had driven his Chevy Impala out into the desert and found a long, straight stretch of road. He attached the JATO unit to the car, jumped in, got up some speed and fired off the JATO! The facts, as best as could be determined, are that the operator of the 1967 Impala hit the JATO ignition at a distance of approximately 3.0 miles from the crash site. This was established by the scorched and melted asphalt at that location. The JATO, if operating properly, would have reached maximum thrust within 5 seconds, causing the Chevy to reach speeds well in excess of 350 mph and continuing at full power for an additional 20 -25 seconds. The driver, and soon to be pilot, would have experienced G-forces usually reserved for dog fighting F-14 jocks under full afterburners, causing him to become irrelevant for the remainder of the event. However, the automobile remained on the straight highway for about 2.5 miles (15-20 seconds) before the driver applied and completely melted the brakes, blowing the tires and leaving thick rubber marks on the road surface, then becoming airborne for an additional 1.4 miles and impacting the cliff face at a height of 125 feet leaving a blackened crater 3 feet deep in the rock. Most of the driver's remains were not recoverable. However, small fragments of bone, teeth and hair were extracted from the crater, and fingernail and bone shards were removed from a piece of debris believed to be a portion of the steering wheel. Epilogue: It has been calculated that this moron attained a ground speed of approximately 420-mph, though much of his voyage was not actually on the ground.

Has this ever happened to you? There's a guy at the SAQ (provincial liquor store), a cashier, that is so stunningly beautiful that I'm nervous and atwitter when I pay for my things. When he says "bonjour" to me, I blush and say it back. When he says "Merci" upon the completion of the transaction I get all flummoxed and think, "He said MERCI to me, OMG!" I can honestly say that no stranger has ever had that effect on me. But if you only saw his eyes. Oh and spouse concurs with me. I can't imagine he'll be working there for long since he will surely be discovered in the modeling or (we can hope can't we) porn business. Happy Monday peeps!