2002-01-28 - 11:48 a.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "She Bop", Cyndi Lauper

Good god, I've been busy. I have two mostly-written journal entries, and now I'm going to allow myself 20 minutes for this "what-I-did-last Thursday" entry. Here we go.

As I said to Poindexter, I really need to get out of the house more, because fun stuff happens when I do.

Last Thursday we went over to Pentagon Row, mainly to eat at the Lebanese Taverna but partly to check out this new ... shopping center, I guess it is, mainly. One of those newfangled multi-use places (shops, restaurants, apartments) that doesn't quite get it, but at least they tried.

We wandered around a bit trying to find the restaurant -- the layout is kind of weird -- and we turned a corner and I was ecstatic to see, right in the middle of a three-sided courtyard, an ICE-SKATING RINK.

The best part of this was that it was 60 degrees when I left work. Ordinarily I don't much like ice skating because it's so damn cold when you do it. But this is the second time in my life that I've happened upon an ice-skating rink when the weather was warm (the other was six years ago in San Jose, the first time I flew out to visit Poindexter). So I was very happy.

Dinner was absolutely incredible. Good GOD that food is good. If you live here and haven't been to the Lebanese Taverna, you're committing a crime. I mean it. I'm just pissed it took me so long to get my ass over there. Even my mother, who ordinarily wrinkles her face at any kind of non-American non-Italian food, loves it.

The friends who introduced us to the place are Alicia and Mike, the parents of the twins and the new baby boy. Since we were headed up to NJ on Friday noon, we ordered a couple extra entrees and saved half the appetizers to take up to them, in lieu of a more traditional new-baby present.

After dinner I headed to the rest room, and as the door was swinging shut behind me, I heard a sort of squeaking noise, "Eeeeeeeeeeeee".

My ears don't distinguish sounds very well, so at first I thought it was a squeaky door, but I wondered why it was so loud.

As I opened the stall door, I heard it again. "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee". That was too weird. I stood there for a moment, waiting to see if it would happen again, and sure enough it did. And I heard it "correctly" this time.

"Mooooooommmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

I stifled a laugh, and stood there dithering about what to do for a second, because I couldn't talk to the kid through the stall door. Then I heard it again:

"Mooooooommmyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!"

The kid sounded impatient and whiny, not upset or scared. Probably couldn't reach the toilet paper. So I went back out and took inventory of the two tables with children. One of them was missing a five-year-old girl, so I went to the mom and said, "Excuse me, do you have a daughter in the rest room?"

The mom smiled and said, "Yes, I do." She must've thanked me about five times. She even prompted her kid to thank me when we were all washing our hands at the sinks. Wacky.

I got back to the table and told the story to Poindexter. I wondered aloud whether the kid knew the mom wasn't in the restroom and wouldn't be able to hear. At that age I don't think they can grasp concepts like that. Poindexter said, "Yeah, plus they're so used to being ignored when they whine 'Mommy' repeatedly -- they know eventually they'll get some attention."

When we told Alicia and Mike the story, they wondered aloud why the kid was alone in the restroom, especially in this day and age. I dunno, I figure five years old is okay, especially when your mom is literally right around the corner. I'm a little annoyed with how kids are so overly protected these days, but that's a rant for another day.

Poindexter, meanwhile, was rolling his eyes at the awful people sitting next to us. Apparently they were snobs. He affected a nasal, blase tone and imitated them:

"Yes, when we were in Greece it was sooooooooo difficult to get away from the touristy areas, but once we did, the food was faaaaaahbulous."

He said that the whole conversation was about name dropping and place-name dropping. The only reason they said anything about the food in Greece was just to make sure their companions knew they had been there.

After dinner, I went over to the ice rink. I asked if they took credit cards, and he said no, and I only had $8 in cash when I needed $9. He was nice, and rang me up as a child, although when Poindexter got back from putting the leftovers in the car, I gave them the extra $1.

When I walked out, THEN I noticed that there are little handwritten "NO CREDIT CARD" signs all over the goddamn place. I hate people who don't notice that kind of thing, so I felt like an idiot. Well, I have one excuse -- the door was propped open so I didn't see the sign at eye level on the door.

Well, what to say?

Except for two couples there, I was the oldest person at the rink. The rest were a bunch of giggly teenagers.

They played 80s music. That was fun. "Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go" and "Oh Yeah" from Ferris Bueller's Day Off and "She Bop". I couldn't believe it. Except for the guy who I paid, everyone working there and most of the clientele were teenagers.

There was a couple my age with a 3-year-old boy wearing double-bladed skates and pushing an upside-down bucket to give him balance. It was too cute. He really seemed to dig it, which surprised me, because it looked like a lot of work to me.

My ice skating has improved dramatically after all this time skating in-line. I really had a blast. I was skating around and around grinning like a complete idiot. I'd try to stop grinning, but minutes later I'd catch myself doing it again. I have no idea what the spectators were thinking.

Unfortunately the rental skates had NO padding and I basically ground away the skin on my ankle bones. It's pretty disgusting. It hurt the whole time I was skating but I was having too much fun to stop.

I don't know how to stop in ice skates (I just coast and then hit a wall), and neither did another couple there my age, and I very nearly crashed into them at one point. Well, at least I didn't crash into the teenagers. That would've been worse.

OK, I'm five minutes over my time limit. Argh.

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