The very next night we had a lovely dinner in Royal Oak. Afterwards, I asked Lizz if she wanted to have a flight of wines at Vinotecca, a trendy wine bar in town. She thought that was a lovely idea and we sat outside on their patio so we could people watch. Our sommelier—in sharp contrast to last night’s waitress—was a consummate professional. His knowledge of wine regions, local soils and minerals was peerless.
After settling on a sinfully good Sauvignon Blanc from northern Italy, we relaxed. Then I noticed something behind my girlfriend’s head. She was seated with her back to the glass window and I was facing the glass. I asked her to turn and look. At the table directly inside, a young woman—who looked like Susan Powter did in the 80s—had hiked her summer dress up to her thong. Her legs were spread like a Thanksgiving turkey and her stiletto pumps rested on the table, giving her husband—and half of Royal Oak—a nice show. She continued spreading, crossing and kicking her admittedly beautiful legs around while we drank.
Then a scream from down the street. Lizz looked to her right and saw a fat gentleman with a silver ponytail screaming at someone trying to open the driver’s side door of a BMW. He looked exactly like David Crosby. I am still not convinced it wasn’t David Crosby. He was sitting in front of the Jimmy John’s sub shop screaming at his inebriated wife, who continued to fumble with her key fob. She was apparently too drunk to open the lock and this was upsetting David Crosby. It was also upsetting his child who became nauseous at the fighting and got the dry heaves. We still have no idea of the gender of the child. Suffice it to say the kid was around 11 or 12, chubby and resembled a young Ozzy Osbourne.
As if this wasn’t enough, there was also a grandmother, wheelchair bound and unable to speak, left on the sidewalk by the mother who will not be applying to be a locksmith anytime soon. At this point, the child was shaking as David Crosby bellowed like a musk ox with ear mites. I picked up the phone to dial 911 and guess what? The call wouldn’t go through. Fortunately the family packed up and left quickly, most likely late for their appearance on COPS.
Again, where the heck was your camera???? I might have stolen the picture to use for my avatar….
A Sauvignon Blanc? You know, I may have to beg to differ with your sommelier here.
To go with watching a fat bastard bellowing at his dysfunctional family, I would definitely have gone with red. Possibly a full-bodied merlot. Remember to let the wine breathe at least five minutes if you want to fully appreciate how its rich bouquet compliments an obese obnoxious shithead forcing his son into therapy for the rest of his life.
Whereas, Sir certainly made the right choice ordering the white to go with the retro horny housewife doing a spread-eagle thong dance for her sleazy paramour. Although if I may be so bold, perhaps something somewhat fruitier on the pallet would have better evoked the result of all those hours on the stair machine. I’m thinking a chilled Reisling here.
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Riesling? Isn’t that a bit too sweet for a tart woman like that? 😈
Mmmmmmm stuffed turkey :wang:
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Indeed, Sir has a point.
It’s just that while thinking of the young ladies little strip of thong being tugged and shoved between her superpower thighs, I couldn’t help but think of the Alsace region.
So, I’m guessing here, but it sounds and (judging from past pictures) looks as though Royal Oaks is some sort of repository for freaks who no longer qualify for any government sponsored incarceration. Which begs the question, Dave, ah…how did you wind-up there?
Ever thought about take-out? On the other hand, you would miss the show.
On the bright side, Dinner and a show for the price of a bottle of wine.
We all secretly know you hang out with the freaks to keep Lizz thinking you are normal.
I’m beginning to wonder if maybe Royal Oak would be a great place for me to move to…….I mean, my pack of EVIL WERE-RABBITS OF DOOOOOOOOOM and I would have a place where we could fit it……..or maybe at least a hefty supply of society’s degenerates to poke at, laugh at, sneer at, and possibly make celebrities out of on a hilarious website……..damn, can’t do that either…….Zilla-man, looks like you may be safe for now……I’m going to have to stay right here for the time being……..I feel right at home here in Columbus, Indiana…..I refer to it by it’s real name…….the 10TH SPHERE OF HELL……………..consider yourself lucky…..most of the people here are true demons…….. 😈 👿
I didn’t know you saw me in Royal Oak! Why didn’t you tap on the glass? I would have come out to say hello!
Uncrosses legs
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I think we got to know you rather well that night. 😛 :thong:
Wine? I thought whisky made girls expose themselves. 😈
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wine? maybe. whining? no.
Three more JD Single Barrel on the rocks, please!
I hope that woman didn’t have any cheese to go with her wine. :wtf:
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No, I’m sure Dave has a DVD player somewhere… 😛