Sean and I went out for a sensational prime rib dinner last night to celebrate our finishing the 8k Shamrock Run through a drizzling downtown Portland that morning. Neither of us particularly enjoy running nor do we ever really run, and while it was pretty easy for him (homeboy is pretty damn fit), it was fairly arduous for myself. So much so that when I finished I felt more grumpy and self-critical than anything close to accomplished or proud, even if it was the farthest I had ever run. Ever! I regretted the few times I had to walk. I regretted how long it took me to finish. My ankle hurt. I had to go to the bathroom but didn’t want to use a porta-potty. I was damp and cold. The crowds became overwhelming. In other words, I became a giant, whiny baby. The treat of a fancy dinner was much needed.
We thoroughly stuffed our faces with thick slabs of prime rib (carved tableside!), fresh broccoli, herbed rice or mashed potatoes, a bottle of Argentinian malbec AND decidedly un-paleo desserts (hot fudge sundae, chocolate mousse). We laughed and had a great time. My mood was drastically altered, and we hailed the awesomely retro Clyde’s Prime Rib as a place we must take others.
When the bill came, I happily pronounced that its total was exactly what I had anticipated it to be. Without missing a beat, Sean responds, “Looks like the Leapfrog computer I got you for Christmas is really paying off!”
We then died. It was a good day.