And on the Seventh Day…

February 17, 2008 at 8:20 pm (The Easy Chair)

The last few Saturdays have been less than stellar in the fun department. Whether it be sickness, poverty or just plain loneliness, there’s been some reason for me to stay home and hide under the covers. So what was I in for this weekend? Cue the jukebox:

Another Saturday Night by Cat Stevens? Nope.

Saturday Night’s All Right for Fighting by Elton John? Nah, too aggro. I’m feeling mellow…

Come Saturday Morning from the movie The Sterile Cuckoo? Please… and no Liza Minnelli jokes, either.

Lookin’ for the Heart of Saturday Night by Tom Waits? Now we’re getting closer…

I’ve been having computer issues lately, adding to my angst. Since giving up liquor, the internet and other computer-related activities have fed my obsessive-compulsive nature. When my monitor started behaving poorly, I knew something had to be done. Fortunately, I get a small tax return, and I’ve trained my clothes and appliances to wait and break down when I can afford to replace them. Or so it seems.

When Saturday morning rolled around, the bright sunshine brought an optimism I hadn’t felt in a while. I’ve always loved the dark, cloudy weather, but the last couple of years it’s been getting to me. Even better, I had a good reason to go out, so I conquered my computer issues quickly and effectively. (It rarely happens that way. Usually I end up missing one vital step that shuts the whole system down, and then I have to beg, plead and cajole Freewheelin’ to come over and use one of his magic tricks to make it all better.) This time, I had the monitor replaced (and a blogpost bragging about it) up within an hour, and I was back on the road to continue the fun.

I met back up with ThatGirl in time for dinner. Early dinner, actually. I’d originally wanted to go to Brazil Grill, the absolute king of meat buffets. Caballeros brandishing skewers and swords come around, parceling off slices of carnivorous heaven until you tell them to stop. With caramelized pineapple for dessert? Bring it on! Unfortunately, I couldn’t get a reservation, and I’d asked three days in advance. I even offered the guy a two dollar tip if he could cook the reservation book, but he was an immovable force.

My second choice? Since steak or some form of big meat was calling, no, screaming my name, I suggested a long-time favorite, Sayler’s Old Country Kitchen.

Back in the day, on special occasions, Sis, bro-in-law and I would go for prime rib. The prime rib was so good I’d never considered ordering anything else. As one gets older, and one realizes that an $80 dinner will feed two kids for a week when spent at Freddy’s, it became a luxury, one we’d put on the back burner.

But since it was just me and ThatGirl, and I was rolling in the spoils of tax refunds and cheap computer equipment, expense be damned! Plug in the Prince CD, and Let’s Go Crazy!

Memories of being stuck in the smoky bar for an hour waiting for a table haunted me, so I hurried us along to get there early. We arrived about 4:30 PM, and the place was hopping. Since there were just the two of us, and since we were much more polite than the old fart demanding seats for four and grumbling about their no-reservation policy, we were led to the back to a quiet table for two. A martini for the lady, and a basket full of vegetables for the gentleman. I knew to eat these slowly, because service can take its time here. When they say aged beef, they mean it. They start butchering after you order, or so it used to seem.

Not this time! I’d barely finished the salad when a sizzling platter of porterhouse landed in front of me. I got the 24-ounce, and it was a plateful. Crunchy on the outside, bloody on the inside, yum! My dinner buddy had the prime rib, and though I wished I’d had room for both, the giant T-bone was a tasty alternative. Besides, my last encounter with prime rib was spectacular, and I wasn’t ready to taint that memory.

I finished the bugger off, flipping the bone over and getting the last crunchy bits of fat hiding here and there. An offer of ice cream was politely declined. (I’m on a diet, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s at midnight could almost be justified if I skip dessert, right?) I was stuffed. Sayler’s has an offer where if you can eat their 72-ounce steak (with trimmings) within an hour, it’s free. Many have tried, few have succeeded. After doing the math and realizing I’d have to eat three times what I’d just finished, it didn’t even sound good. I’m all for a good pigging out, but that seemed ridiculous.

I did suffer a case of mild shock when the bill came. A pleasant surprise, for a change! After perusing the menu, I noted that prices had barely increased in the decade since I’d been there last. What used to be an expensive dinner seemed reasonable now. I’ll be way more likely to go again, and not just when the windfall happens.

There was a steady bustle the whole time we were there, and on the way out we faced a gauntlet of voracious diners-in-waiting. Some held cocktails. There must have been thirty people milling about, and it wasn’t even 5:30. My friend’s senior discount jokes aside, early dinner was a good call.

Usually, dinner is followed by a Blazer game this time of year, but it’s the All-Star break, so we watched the Slam Dunk competition. I’ve never been a big fan, but this year’s was a good one. I saw Superman fly.

Sunshine, good friends, good luck fixing things necessary to my sanity; the day came together well. ThatGirl even ignored the fact that I was watching COPS in front of her!

I really needed to have a good day. Thank you to all who helped make it so.

I think the Bay City Rollers get the honor of Song of the Day. Simple and to the point…

“S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y… Night!!”

Saturday, you have redeemed yourself.

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