Left Of Center

Sometimes the realization that something's not quite right hits you like a kick in the nads: swift, painful & unrelenting. Sometimes, that same realization comes on a wee bit slower, like a kick just to the left of the jewels: you feel OK at first. Then, there's the slow build of intense pain that brings you to your knees, wishing you'd die. (In some ways, this is worse than a direct hit, because of the whole false sense of well-being just prior to the take-your--breath-away slowly escalating pain.) One particular event a couple of weeks ago fell well under the 'kick just to the left' category.

T's brother & his wife came out to sunny SoCal from Louisiana to run a marathon down in San Diego, after which they made their way up to our place & then the four of us headed out to Palm Springs for a little R&R. We stayed at a nice little inn called the Calla Lily (which I highly recommend - the owners were super nice & accomodating, the rooms were nice & spacious & the whole place was soooo quiet) just off the main strip through PS. From there we were able to walk to just about anywhere in town, although with the heat hitting around 106 degrees & an occasional thunderstorm popping up, it sometimes felt like I was walking around with a wet towel around my face. Couple that with the fact that I was fighting off some weird bug that caused my body to generate an inordinate amount of snot &, well...you get the picture.

Anyway, on Thursday nights, PS has a market night/street fair kinda thingie in downtown. We decided to go see what was there, figuring it would be a bit cooler. We were sorely mistaken. Y'see, even with the misters going that line the streets, it was still 80+ degrees out. When you add water to dry, hot air, it evaporates - fast. It then becomes extremely muggy, worse than during the day. In essence, heat + water + snot = Crabby Jay.

The ladies did some shopping & then we decided to try to find a Mexican food resturant we'd heard of, the Blue Coyote. We had no idea about where on the street it was located, so we did what anyone else would do: start walking, hoping that we'd find the place. This, of course, turned out to be the wrong move. We asked a local where the eatery was & were told that it was, & I quote, 'about three blocks down the street'. In the other direction, of course.

Several 'three blocks down the street' later, T & I were dragging ourselves far behind her brother & sister-in-law (lousy healthy runner-types...), getting tired of walking & ready to take the next place we saw.

Big mistake.

We came across an establishment promising hamburgers of one sort or another. This point was driven home by the place's mascot, a very well endowed woman with gigantic hair, holding a plate with an equally enormous cheeseburger. (This would be the part in my getting-kicked-just-left-of-the-nads analogy where the initial hit happened - I'd been kicked, but thought that all was well as I felt no pain.) While we waited to be seated, a group of young men who, very obviously, um...played for the other team (PS has a large contingent when it comes to this - I told the others this fact, so it wasn't a complete surprise), were sitting at a table near us & became quite vocal & happy when Celine Dion appeared on the TV. (This would be the part of the analogy where a slight discomfort begins to manifest itself, but it's not enough to cripple me.)

We were led to our table inside the resturant & noticed that we were in the minority when it came to couples of the more traditional lot. (Pain starting to become noticeable.) I noticed that placed around the neck of a smaller version of the mascot there was a rainbow colored feather boa, which made it look suspiciously like a female impersonator. (Pain becoming very uncomfortable.) I opened the menu & found a burger named the 'Queen Mary', which had a disclaimer stating that this particular item takes a bit longer to cook because the chef is making it wearing high heels. (Breathing becoming difficult due to pain.)

The thing that finally brought me, analogy-wise, to my knees, clutching my naughty bits & wishing that the sensation of having them caught in a tablevise would stop, was one of the posters, which asked the question 'Do you have a fairy in your house?'. Yes, we all came to the startling, kick-to-the-groin realization that we were in a gay hambuger resturant. I had no idea that these existed.

After sitting for a few minutes trying to take it all in &, most importantly, having not received our drink order that we'd placed ten minutes ago (I hate slow service), we decided to take our leave of the place.

We then found out that the Blue Coyote was two doors down the street. *sigh*