Last night I went out on a date with my husband. We try to go out alone at least every six weeks. I'm fortunate to be able to find terrific babysitters. (Hi, Chelsey!) We went to Splash in Westport.
We had a couple of drinks (Tanqueray and Tonic for Mark, Whale's Tale Ale from Nantucket for me) and tried to block out the booming house music that struck us as more than a little odd for a lovely restaurant overlooking the Long Island sound. They should have just put a sign on the front door, "If you're over 35 get lost!"
So - we get home and it's about 10:30pm. Fast forward to a quiet moment upstairs (you following me?) I leaned over to flip on the radio next to the bed. Nice love song. Perfect. Then, I hear talking about the bacteria in the bottom of the filthy office coffee cup. WHAT?
Marks turns around/looks up/looks over/looks down (I'm not telling) and says to me, "John Tesh, what a buzzkill." Best line ever uttered in bed! We had a good laugh. And isn't that what being close is all about? The ability to laugh together? It is for me.
Yes, I'd tuned to John Tesh's show! And it's horrible. I need Sirius satellite radio in the bedroom. I haven't listened to FM for three years. And without Imus on the FAN there's no need to tune into AM anymore either. I'm a Sirius girl 100%.
Will someone please tell Mr. Tesh that Friday night lovey music should NOT include the mention of bacteria? EVER?