January has proven to be an asshole for the past five years in a row. We lived with illness and loss. Change and uncertainty. I mean, bad things happen in other months, but January has proven to be particularly brutal.
Now, we’re watching the president commit crime after crime and it seems like he’s pretty much getting away with it.
Today is Sunday.
The project I’ve been dreading?
It’s going now and seems to be going well. Of course, a completely different and gut wrenching problem has manifested. Wish me luck when you read this. I’m going to need it.
A few hours remain in the weekend. I’m going to try to shake off as much negative shit as I can and, instead, tell you about lunch yesterday.
Randy and I decided to make the short trip to Covington, KY to visit the Cock and Bull which has the best fish and chips around. Randy is amazing and I love him, but he tends to lean toward the “holy shit, everything will always go wrong” side.
We drove over the bridge and took the first exit to the Main Strasse area in Covington.
Randy: We might have an issue with Cock and Bull
Me: What issue?
Randy: Well, they have a brunch. They’re probably going to be packed.
Me: Well, if they’re packed, we’ll go someplace else.
Randy: We’re never going to find a parking spot.
The Cock and Bull has huge windows. We drove past looking for a parking space and I saw one table with people.
Me: There’s hardly anyone in there.
Randy: We’re never finding a spot.
Me: There’s one.
We only had to walk two blocks. We grabbed a high top by the front door. There were only two other tables.
We really got there just in time.
Just in time.
We ordered lunch and before we got our drinks, the restaurant filled up with warthogs.
And not cartoon warthogs, like Pumbab, but a motorcycle club called the warthogs. They came from all over because I saw vest after vest with “Indiana chapter” or “Tennessee chapter”. They filled every available space in the restaurant.
Me: I don’t know where to look. I want to stare. I wish I had sunglasses.
Randy: Do not stare.
Me: Guess what song is in my head.
Me: No, really. Guess.
Randy: I have no idea.
Me: C’mon. PeeWee’s Big Adventure?
Me: We need some platform shoes and some bottles to break. We’ll make it out.
Randy, trying not to laugh: Stop.
I made a huge mistake, which had nothing to do with warthogs, only to do with a poor decision.
The Cock and Bull has great fish and chips, but did I order fish and chips? No. I ordered the Reuben.
I mean, the sandwich was okay. The lower bread was mushy and the corned beef a bit rubbery. Randy got the fish and chips. So, at least I had a little. Randy is super good at sharing his food. I guess. I don’t really ask, he doesn’t seem to mind.
We left, which was good, because I was having a super hard time not staring. There were so many tattoos. I am fascinated by people’s skin art and there was just so much. And nearly all the women were wearing black shirts that looked like part of it was shredded by Freddy Krueger.
And they were so happy. I mean, they were super happy to see each other.
Anyway, it’s rude to stare. We left and crossed the street to my favorite consignment shop. I felt lucky. I was going to find something.
I found a cashmere sweater, a vintage costume jewelry necklace and Randy picked out a furry hat with a bill for me. He thinks the hat looks great. Joey said I look ridiculous. They’re both right.
There were some rings in the jewelry case were made from folded up dollar bills.
Me: Oh hey, I remember doing this in junior high.
Randy: You made rings like that?
Me: Well, no. I just knew people who did. I wasn’t that talented.
The store owner told me a homeless dude named Kenny made the rings and sold them there for $4. Kenny got all the proceeds. So, I had to buy one.
My older son, Zach, stopped by after we got home. He said he couldn’t stay long because he and his wife were having a date night. I gave him the dollar bill ring to give to her.
He said she loved it.
It was fun to get away for a little bit and relax.
I’m trying to take some of that warthog goodwill to work with me.
- You know who isn’t scared of work problems? Warthogs.
- You know who isn’t going to let January get them down? Warthogs.
So, my plan is to be a warthog. At least in spirit.