Friday, October 5, 2012

Dinner for Seven and Some Pot

This is the story about how the husband and I accidental took the children for dinner at a marijuana joint.

It all started when I decided that I wanted my free piano refinished before the new house is done. For weeks now I have been back and forthing with Heather. Heather is a super-duper nice and amazingly talented ASU art student that is going to be using her gifts to take my piano from old and ugly to one of a kind!  Heather is one of those cool gals that can rock a teeny tiny diamond nose ring and make it believably respectable.

So at last the day came to meet up with Heather and finalize our piano refinishing plans. So excited!

And then I go and decide that this here visit with Heather can be a family outing. Brilliant right?

Appointment time 6:30 pm.

4 of the kids and I load up from home. And when I say "load up" what I mean is... spend a good 20 minutes rounding up, packing up and buckling up before pulling out. 20 more minutes later the 4 kids plus me meet up with Scott and the 5th child, we combine ourselves into one car and head for the given cross roads of the art studio.

Almost immediately there were cries and sobs from the back seat of absolute desperate starvation. And I mean desperate. These kids might as well have been fresh off the planes, having crossed the entire US on foot in search of religious freedom.

Still we pressed on throwing back promises of food as soon as we finished with Heather. Scott and I proceeded to have an in depth conversation over the tortured sobs from behind us, which caused us to drive clean past our destination. The suffering and starving of the children increased substantially after a U-turn and an explanation as to why we were going back. Oh the suffering!

It was dark by now and our search for the studio became increasingly difficult. Darkened strip malls and confusing directions was all I had. We had driven and U-turned and searched and nothing! The number to the studio was only giving me the after hours recording and so I called my Mom at home and had her pull up my email hoping she could find an alternative number. No luck.

While I was on the phone, giving step by step instructions to Mother, Scott pulled into a McDonalds drive through and then put the car in reverse and changed his mind. I could NOT hear a blasted thing over the wailing of my emaciated children. By the way, have you ever backed out of a fast food drive-through?

I give Scott the evil eye that says, "get us to the nearest food place now, or else!" But see, my husband had skipped lunch and he has a strict rule of healthy dinner when he has had no lunch. So here I was, buried in Scott's I-phone attempting to use the ridiculous device to retrieve the information that may at some point, lead us to Heather. And so I  followed him blindly out of the car and through a dark parking lot to a little shop in the corner that appeared to be selling sub sandwiches and soup.

At this point the only thing that I noticed was that Kaden, the little twerp,  had NO SHOES! I could have lost my ability to respirate.

I was still on the phone when Scott led us into the little shop but when we entered I had a very clear feeling of..

"What in the???"

But I was busy. With one hand on the phone and a baby in the other I was attempting to keep track of the starving children while Scott ordered. FINALLY, I find the information and hang up the phone. I take one good look around. The kids and Scott were stuffing their faces and now I know that we are completely and entirely OUT OF PLACE. I see signs on the wall that say, "Flying High" and flags draped off the ceiling depicting a seven lobed leaf. I see a mural on the wall of tribal people with smokey joints squeezed between their fingers. I read the slogan, "toasted" subs, with the quotation marks suspiciously around only the toasted part.

I look Scott dead in the face and say,

"Do you know where we are?"

To which he says,

"Yes, I do." Without so much as looking up from his plate.

Now we were getting stares and I got this Motherly force rushing through my soul like a freight train. In seconds I had wrapped up the sandwiches, corralled my kids and got us the heck out of there.

I am certain that this was a first, not only for us but for the legalized-drug slash soup and sandwich shop as well.

We found the hidden art studio that was so hidden there is no way on earth one would find it with out step by step help. I love Heathers plan for the piano and I think I love Heather too.

Arrival time: 7:52pm.

My piano is going to be awesome.

And that is the story of how Scott and I took our conservative little family of seven to dinner at a Marijuana place.

We really did.




3 comments:

Anonymous said...

was the place called cheba hut. Paul and I use to go there, because they really do have good subs. This also reminds me of when you took your family to the gay pride parade.

Jody said...

So.....apparently the subs were pretty good. Your kids stopped whinning. You found the art studio. Your piano is going to be beautiful. But...how were you feeling when you left? Kinda relaxed? Maybe "high"? ;)

(can't wait to see your piano :)

Hailey said...

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. I've been to that place before!!! Hilarious that you had your fam there~

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