That’s right. Sue me.
Mrs. Nitmos and I are sans kids this week having deposited them deep in the woods at the grandparents in northern Michigan to do battle with ticks, fleas, Lyme disease, and banjo playing neighbors (squeal like a pig). That leaves the wife and I with extra amounts of time to get a few long neglected tasks done. So, we went to the movies.
I protested and muttered something about the other husbands getting to see Iron Man or The Hulk or, at least, reruns of the UFC on cable instead. No. We were to see Sex and the City. And now, just a few short hours later, I’m using the official fan abbreviation “SatC” (see title line).
Mrs. Nitmos was required to order the tickets. How could I stand there and say “two tickets – one being male - for Sex and the City please”? I’m certain some sort of siren would go off over my head. A voice would come over the theater loudspeaker “Barb, we need one of those MALE tickets for SatC pronto. They are in the back under a layer of dust next to the Tampex.”
Rounding the bend into the theater, I took one scan of the patrons. There were a dozen or so. A few other men with their wives. We exchanged the sheepish holding-the-purse-outside-of-the-dressing-room smile.
The lights went down. The plucky theme music came on. And for the next 2+ hours, I was absorbed into the life of four New York friends and their relationship turmoil.
I’m not proud of it. I had no desire to see Cynthia Nixon topless. That challenged my puke threshold. Sarah Jessica Parker has nice legs though. I wonder if she is a runner.
I sat. I watched. You know what? It wasn’t bad. There I said it. In fact, I’m going to punctuate that even further by placing a period after each word: It. Wasn’t. Bad.
So, I guess I’m a SatC guy now. This should come as no surprise to some of you after that embarrassing hoo-ha faux pas a few weeks back.
Now, time to get my, ahem, Manolo Blahniks back out of Mrs. Nitmos’ purse. I’ll be needing those.
Congratulations to fellow Steer Mike on his 10k age group win and subsequent retirement from the 35-39 age group.
Head over to RazZdoodle's to dump fartlek post ideas all over his sight. He likes it. He's sick that way.
And just because it's been awhile, I'd like to remind each of you that Vanilla smells of moldy cheese. Really, he does. Also, he's seen SatC 6 times and owns the box set.
A tune-up last night for Saturday's 5k. I eased off the 800 repeats only doing 2 of them.
2 x 800 (400m cool downs): 2:46, 2:52.