La Gringa’s Got a Tattoo!
Well, some people get married, La Gringa gets tatted (Is tatted a word?). I could tell you about our date night of spending an hour at the tattoo shop, or the cool guys there, the wild music and how silly we felt being all dressed up for date night (dress and wedges somehow didn’t fit the look there), but I think La Gringa’s rear can say it all.
Read More
Bye, Bye, Love
La Gringa is leaving me… for a hot little number called Startup. She’s a mobile sweet talker and La Gringa is whipped.
It’s a good thing; it is. It’s the right thing. We’ve lived our fantasy of having our own business and being parents so well that anything different that our current gig seems adulterous.
I miss you already, sweetheart. But I’m thrilled you’re going to go knock ‘em dead for another little startup-that-could.
Read More
Not So Down With That Cluck
Last year we tried to find a Chick-Fil-A for La Gringa in Salt Lake…an hour went by wandering the streets around the Mormon Temple before we gave up completely and ate some crappy airport food. This year, we were determined to prevail:
2 p.m. — Begin to track down the Clucker Burger on La Gringa’s iPhone.
2:30- p.m. — Head straight onto a no-turn highway headed for Park City after Google Maps advises us to: “Exit onto I80 West. Veer right onto I80 East.”
2:45 p.m. — La Gringa and I begin a “gentle disagreement” where I want to blow off the Big G and little i and call 411. Begrudgingly, she does. We call the number for Chick-Fil-A and…it’s disconnected.
3 p.m. — Find our way to downtown where a street worker tells us to find the damn chook and looks at us rather weird, pointing us to 50 Main Street. Finding the address, we found the entire building being torn down as.we.drove.by.
3:15 p.m. — In fits, I mean F-ing fits, we finally break down and ask a driver where the hell this goddamn chicken shop is. She gives us exact directions: they take us dead-stop into the Delta Center, home of the Utah Jazz. Unless Carlos Boozer is a clucker-in-disguise, we were, again, in the wrong place.
3:30 p.m. — Mouthwatering we find a mall where we hear there’s a chick shop inside. We find a planitarium and a nice little lady that tells us that there’s no poultry in sight.
3:45 p.m. — We find a CPK, which thrills Thing 1 when he tells us that CPK and “Triple A” (Chick-Fil-A) rhyme.
Bastard.
Maybe next year…
Read More
Compatible? Nah, that’d be boring…
Picture deleted. Some compatibility thingy from Facebook where @la_gringa and I are polar opposites on our movies tastes.
Read More
Side Gigs
