What Happens in Vegas…… (Day 1 – 2 entries)

3:44pm – I, in a bit of twisted irony that will be immediately evident to anyone acclimated with my song The Biscuit Blues, am deeply entrenched in a layover in Atlanta. And I’ve made a few observations along the way. 1) Suburbia looks downright silly from overhead. Seriously, it looks like Legoland in its homogeny. 2) It unnerves me that airplanes are held together by Phillips-head screws. I mean, I know there’s MANY of them, but seriously, Phillips-head? Shouldn’t they at least be using hex-head or something? Perhaps toggle bolts!? 3) Three hours is just too long for a layover in a state that I’ve been to before and one that boasts the only town (Retreat) that I’ve ever actively tried to avoid (quite a pungent aroma that Retreat features, eh JayMar?) 4) No free wi-fi for people with three hours to kill? C’mon! 5) If I were an airline pilot, I’d have SO much more fun making announcements to people. 6) Hearing the FAA announce a bump in Home Security Alert System always brightens my day.

11:52pm (local time) – I am in Las Vegas, having been picked up by Mitch. But not before I heard a few interesting quotes along the way.

“The flight to Las Vegas will take approximately 4 hours and 30 moments.” – stewardess during the opening speech

“How do you spell fury? F-U-R-R-Y?” – overheard in the GA airport

“Sweet holy moses!” – I swear I heard this from someone in the airplane, which is a reference to Get Fuzzy.

Anyway, we settled in our hotel, which is surprisingly nice for the dingier part of North Vegas. The El Cortez boasts “looser slots” than anywhere in Vegas. Well, Mitch and I did about 1 hour of experimentation, and he made $130 ($50 in slots, $80 in blackjack), and I pocketed $170 (all blackjack). I could get used to Vegas if it was always like this.

I tee off tomorrow at 1:40pm. I have no internet connection – or rather, no FREE internet connection. The price I pay to keep the nameless masses informed…

What Happens in Vegas…… (prologue)

I embark tomorrow on twelve days of debauchery, social misacclimation, and, of course, shenanigans. That’s right, by the close of tomorrow, I will be in Las Vegas for the first time ever, meeting up with Mitch “The Mullet ManMiTTenZZ” Sonderfan, where we will compete in a disc golf tournament starting Friday. Accompanying me in this trip will be an odd assortment of awesomefolk such as Miss Alisha “Thunder” Flaumenbaum, Corey “Foresight Tom” Revilla, a couple of Alisha’s friends, who I will nickname “The Stump” and “Li’l Fingers” respectively, and possible other cameos by some interesting folk. That’s right, 6 days in Las Vegas, the city that never sleeps alone.

From there, I go to Reno for four more days of debaucherier, shenaniganner funn. The cast of sordid characters there includes Kevin “T Mob” Gilbert and his lovely wife Angela, who will certainly have to earn a nickname this week, Cyrus “The Man-Chi” Chi, and the ever-intriguing “Awesome” Ashley Wade.

This blog will put aside rumors that will likely arise from my first time in such a city of notable decadence. It will be bare-bones, balls-to-the-wall, monkeys-in-hyphens telling of ALL the twisted tales of the activities in the self-proclaimed Silver State, as well as a smattering of ‘acceptable’ photographs (the unacceptable ones will be available by special request for what I’ll call an ‘extortion’ fee.) I say BOLLOCKS to the old phrase. The new phrase is: “What happens in Vegas… is public domain!” Check right here for daily updates. It won’t be for the faint of heart, the squeamish, or people who like hearing about me getting “punchy with the polecats”, if you hear what I’m saying.

It begins tomorrow!

Evil Dead: The Musical

So I had to go check this out before it stopped its 4+ month run in NYC.  I mean, even without it having Bruce Campbell in it, it’s a must-see for any fan.  Well, I actually didn’t have high expectations for the show going in.  I expected to enjoy it, but I expected it to be pretty schlocky and it would be pure ham.  Now don’t get me wrong: it WAS pure ham and it was schlocky, but I really really enjoyed this show.  There have only been three shows (including this) that I’ve watched and just smiled from ear to ear the entire time (the other two being Blue Man Group and Spamalot)

What made this show work for me was that it wasn’t concentrated on one thing.  It wasn’t pure schlock, or else I would have hated it.  It wasn’t just the movies set to music, because that would have been equally lame.  It wasn’t bad puns (it limited all the puns to one character, which was palatable), and there was enough new material to keep it interesting.  There were insider jokes (at least one joke at Raimi’s expense, as well as using Bruce Campbell’s autobiography as a prop).  It also had plenty of references to the gaping plotholes between Evil Dead 1 & 2, and a VERY SUBTLE reference to the infamous tree-raping scene, which was enough to make me grin.  All told, it was a clever intertwining of the first 2 Evil Deads with the attitude (and all the taglines) from Army of Darkness, but it jumped around enough to not ever get stagnant.
Best new line? (sung):  I bitch-slap demons with my one good hand!

Best scene: the end fight scene where Ash just goes NUTS with the gun and there is enough blood to satisfy even the biggest of fans.

Because the show was closing, we got tickets for only $40, and we’re talking eighth row orchestra, dead center.  You honestly could not ask for better seats (though I still contested we should have paid $5 less and sat in the “splatter” zone, since some of the crowd walking away from the show looked bloody and excited.)  As for the music, I thought it was the weak part of the show, but really, if you’re going to see Evil Dead: the Musical to hear brilliant composition, contraposto melodies, and music theory, you’re probably not right in the head.
I would highly recommend this show to ANYONE who is free the rest of this week.  It is DEFINITELY worth your money, and it closes on Saturday.

Dunham Ice Bowl

It was a cold and windy day yesterday. It was a high of 21 with a wind chill below 10 degrees all day. So what was I doing? Certainly not home, getting drunk before the Superbowl. No, I was out at the sillily small Harry Dunham Park in Liberty Corner NJ, throwing plastic around with fingers that were not too happy. And why? I’d like to say it was for charity. I’d like to say to hang out with Horrible Pete. I’d even like to say because I did well. (The first two, incidentally, are true), but the truth is, I have mental problems: that’s why I was there.

After a few practice holes with Horrible Pete and Scowbag and Jeannie and a few others, Pete and I invented the “glummer”, which is the glove-thumber, and that started a streak of new words for the day: the glurbo putt, the glee-60, the glomahawk… and the unrelated Gloots, poosh, and poje, and the entirely called-for term “handsin’ up”. Anyway, the 1st round got underway and I was paired with Horrible and Karl Molitaris, the man who truly boggles the mind with his insistence on using only Aerobie discs. Dunham is a short, wide-open course, which is fine for people who have good approach games. Approach is the worst part of my game, and approach shots in the open (with wind) is even worse. Needless to say, I threw a total of two birdies the first round (there really is only one or two holes where a birdie is very hard, but still not impossible) I had a +1. Now, this didn’t put me in last (tied for second-to-last), but it certainly didn’t butter my pancakes, since the leader was -10.

We got warm at lunch and had some hot dogs, burgers, and bratts. Then there was a putting contest. Now as anyone who’s known me in the past two years can attest, putting used to be the WORST part of my game. Missed 15′ putts were common. So I joined the putting competition just to donate to charity. We had 6 putts (using 100 gram discs suitable for indoor putting) and had three stations where we threw two putts. I was the first person to make 4 of the 6. Then another twenty entrants went and nobody matched it until right at the end Don Thoms went (on his third try) and got 4. Either way, we each one a new Inferno. Yay me!

I bring this up because I’ve noticed something – since September, I’ve been a “good” putter. Not great, but certainly solid. I haven’t had a tournament in teh past three or four where I missed more 30′ and in than I made 30′ and out. Meaning my putt ratio is pretty good. Whenever I turned into a decent putter I didn’t notice, but it’s pretty good. (And bear in mind that my miserable +1 the first round came with solid wind putting)

Anyway, let’s cut to the chase – it took less time to play the tournament than it’s taking me to write about it. The second round came and I played a little less consistently, but actually shot three strokes better due to actually getting a few birdies and making a couple of good saves. Aside from two missed putts in that round, I was still solid. I ended up in 3rd to last, but did beat veteran Matt LeCourte, and that’s another top player that I’ve beaten in a tournament, even if he really shot himself in the foot and bled to death in the process.

Next up: perhaps Hickory Run next week if it warms up a bit. I don’t want to freeze again.

Pinot Grigio #6

Tomaiolo Pinot Grigio 2005 – Truthfully, there’s still another 6 words on this bottle, so the actual title may be another few words long. I’m all about getting to the point. And to get to the point on this wine, it another in a long line of satisfactory pinot grigios that I’ve had in my life. It didn’t stand out as excellent, but it was certainly good. I am beginning to think my tongue is quite like my nose: it can’t really differentiate subtlety (then again, if you look at my history with women, that may have more to do with my own inability to comprehend anything that isn’t directly spelled out). I digress. My point is my tongue is only able to tell if I truly love something or if I abhor it. This was another good pinot with no particular good or bad punch.

But I will say that I’m changing my opinion about plastic corks. After my last cork shattered into my bottle, I am beginning to understand the value of “fake”. But this wine would be a true 6.5/10, only it was another donation, so we’ll call it a 7. I’m so easy sometimes.

On the Brink:

Tonight, I have the first of two readings for The Unusual Suspects to decide whether or not it will go on to the Fringe Festival this year.  I’m at a new job where the boss actually appreciates me, and I’ve written more in the past month or two for fun than I have in the last year combined.  In a month, I go to Nevada to see old friends, meet a special someone along the way, and kick off my disc golf tournament season.

My slogan for the last two years was: “I am gonna make it through this year if it kills me.”  I think I need a new slogan this year.  How about: “Things are lookin’ up”?  Nah, that’s cliche!  How about: “Why should toad-lickers have all the fun?”  I may need help on the slogan.  Either way, I’m looking forward to 2007.

Sonnet 48,316

2007

At last, I have that which I’ve sought awhiles,
Or, more explicitly, as now I’m learning,
I would thus have but for two thousand miles,
The one for whom I have this cursed yearning.
The portents do abound that warn of pain,
As if I’ve not considered consequences;
Yet if to live like this be deemed insane,
Prefer I never to regain my senses.
Yet what of she, the one who doth present
To me this insomnambulent elation?
Such ire will from her flow – not of dissent,
But that she wrote not first this proclamation.
From which enticing cup should we then run,
When antidote and poison are but one?

Contest Winners Announced!

Congratulations to the newest winner of an esoderek.com/blog contest (which DEFINITELY needs renaming)! Stephanie has won herself an esoderek.com bumper sticker for her caption for this photo:

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“The most important thing to remember during a wicker attack is to remain calm”

In addition, I am giving out another bumper sticker to JayMar, who never received a prize for his winning entry into my first contest. He came up with a slogan for this fine company:

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“When you need man tools, Go Gayer!”

Expect your prizes soon! (JayMar, I need an address for you)

Also, stay tuned for more fantastic esoderek.com contests!

Shiraz #2

Gumdale Shiraz 2005 – Much like the last wine I sampled, which was a pinot noir, this wine smacked your tongue around a bit and called it its bitch.  I would expect nothing less from the wineries of South Eastern Australia, which is from where this wine originated.  I have often admitted that I don’t claim to be an actual expert on wines (though I am finding more and more people asking me for advice, which inevitably makes me giggle).  Despite not being fluent in snobby wine-ese, I do know that a shiraz is not supposed to taste like a pinot noir, and yet the the last two bottles sampled tasted uncannily alike, and not entirely with good result.

An interesting phenominon with this wine: it doesn’t get better the more you have it.  Despite having a comparitively high alcohol content (13.5%), the third glass was no more enjoyable than the first.  Perhaps this has to do with the fake cork, which always leads me to suspicion.  Never trust something that’s not what it’s supposed to be.  This wine does not quite pass with a 4/10.

Pinot Noir #2

Jekel Pinot Noir 2004 – 2004 was not a good year for me. Fortunately, I don’t make wine, so it did not affect this bottle. Though I’d be telling a lie if I said something else didn’t ruin it. Perhaps “ruin” is too strong a word. This was a drinkable wine, in that it didn’t cut open the throat on the way down. It just stung a bit on the taste buds. This one sheemed “sharper” than most (read: the other) pinot noir I’ve tried – like it was attacking the tongue instead of gently caressing it. Other than that, I found this to be a rather forgettable wine – perhaps good in a pasta sauce or with a flank steak, but on its own, it has trouble supporting its own acerbicness.

On the other hand, it was the first wine I got for free by friends who were trying to pawn of “gifts” they’d received that they would never drink, so it might have gotten an extra half point or so because free things just taste better. 5/10

Riesling #1

Relax Riesling 2005 – I’m truthfully not exactly sure of the name of this sweet wine, because it’s German, and I am not fluent.  But that’s not where my confusion ends.  On the front (and one of the major selling points), in calm and reassuring white letters sits the word “RELAX”, etched nicely on the soothing blue bottle.  On the back, in a more typical abrasive German, sits the words “SCHMITT SOHNE” and then, below it in slightly less intimidating letters, the words “MOSEL-SAAR-RUWER”  We’re just gonna go with “Relax”

Rieslings, I can safely say, having tasted a stupidly expensive one, are typically sweeter wines, by which I mean they leave the toilet seat down and cuddle after sex.  I thoroughly enjoyed what the bottle describes as “intense flavors of apples and peaches with just a hint of citrus.”   But here’s the tough part to explain, and I can only do it by comparing it to vocal terms.  Pinot Grigio, a dryer white wine, tastes like a plosive sound might (the P or K sound), exploding with taste right on the front of your mouth.  The riesling, by contrast, is definitely the lateral flavor, opting to swim all around your mouth, particularly the side of the tongue, before falling down your esophagus in a swan dive of wineyness.  It is definitely the letter L of wines.

Where does this leave us?  Well, it was New Years when I drank this wine, and I had 3/4 of a bottle.  One would expect me to be pretty drunk, wouldn’t they?  Not at all – I scarcely felt the effects.  When I later examined the bottle, I noticed it contained only 9.5% alcohol, a surprisingly small amount.

The short answer is if you want a cheap ($11) bottle of riesling that tastes very good, buy Relax.  It frighteningly bordered on “desert wine”.  If you want to get drunk, I would recommend Mountain Dew and Vanilla Vodka.  6/10

Collections

I’ve found that if you tell people you collect something, people will buy it for you.  I have bought exactly zero of my monkeys, and only one of my spatulas.  And now that I write a fake wine column, I have been getting wine as a gift more frequently.  This is interesting.

I would like to publicly announce that I starting a big-boobed, fun, undiscriminating woman collection.  So there ya go.

Malbec #5

Kaiken Malbec 2003 – I have nothing particularly witty to say about this wine – there are no nifty stories, and I can’t even think of a way to throw in a reference to Bosom Buddies here, other than that.  It’s a great malbec, that simple.  Not the best, but solid.  At $13, it gets the job done, but it’s the same job a $10 malbec could get away with.  However, if you have $3 that are particularly pissing you off, spend them on Kaiken and you will not be sorry.  8/10

Prosecco #1

Zardetto Prosecco – Prossecco, coming from the Italian word for “I should do research”, is a sparkling wine, and boy did this one just sparkle.  It was actually a gift I had received a long time ago, and I drank it mainly because I don’t know how long sparkling wine keeps (even if unopened) in a refrigerator.  This was interesting, and ended up being a very dry drink that tasted not unlike champagne, but also not exactly.  It’s certainly not the type of drink to just plow through a bottle unless you don’t have taste buds, but it achieved its purpose, and would likely be a nice celebratory wine.  Not only that, but the name of this drink sounds like some old-school gangster leader, and that’s worth joking about while drinking.  It still only gets a 5/10, because it is not a leisure wine.

Atlantic City

So my supervisor (and attorney) Raul goes down to AC all the time. They know him by name at many places – he’s one of those guys. So when he asked me to come down, telling me we’d have a mini-suite at the Trump Plaza and a free comped dinner, I wasn’t about to turn that down. We were planning on playing the $100 hold’em tournament. I was stoked.

After my harrowing driving experience, I felt I had Lady Luck on my side for the weekend. So we get down and I hit some Let It Ride. I think I played 6 hands without even cashing once. I pick up and leave. I have $45 left of the $100 I was allocating for this, meaning I have 3 hands to play. I tell the lady “I only have three hands in me. Make them count.” I won my first 5 hands and put myself up $50 overall. Then they reshuffled the cards and my luck waned, but I managed to escape after 45 minutes with only losing $25. I’ll take it.

We go to dinner, drink a $92 bottle of Riesling, which I shall review later, and ate a $250 dinner for the price of tip. Not shabby. Then on to the Hold’em tournament. Only 25 people in it, and the price was more than we thought ($125), but first place took home $1500+. I could have done for that.

I also could have done for cards – seriously, I can’t even evaluate my play because aside from pocket queens (once), my best hand was K10 off suit. I mean, utter garbage. I bluffed a few hands, but nobody could win with the cards I was getting. I got knocked out unceremoniously and went back downstairs while Raul and Mike were betting ludicrous amounts of money at a cash game.

I took out $120 (something I was kinda against) and played the table game version of hold’em (just beat the dealer, essentially) Cards were terrible. I lost. It was my biggest loss ever at a casino, totally $270 (which puts me almost exactly even at AC in general)

What amazes me is that, bearing all this in mind, I had no real shenanigans. Just bad luck. I guess having my life saved the night before was enough luck for a while. And really I can’t complain about that.

Merry Christmas to those who wish to hear that. To everyone else, Happy Holidays.

Near-Death Experience

Almost every part of me wants to ignore what just happened. It’s 4 in the morning – I am driving home from Kitt’s party, late at night, on a rainy (I hate NJ because of this) December night. I made it 3/4 the way home. Around exit 150 on the NJ Parkway, I am coasting along, fighting fatigue. I am in the left lane. Suddenly, I hit a patch of water I don’t see and I hydroplane. BADLY. My car slides 90 degrees right. I cut across two lanes of traffic and end up facing the wrong way on this 3-lane highway. I fishtail terribly. Throughout all of this, I am very calm, but I realize the terror of this situation – intellectually, I am waiting for some car to careen into me.  Somehow, I manage to pump my brakes and right myself with some fancy steering. I find myself in the right lane, facing correctly, and completely stopped. My car is panting, thoroughly exhausted, and even confused. I turn it off. Thinking quickly, I put on my hazard lights – the visibility is admittedly slight at best. A few cars swerve to miss me, some jutting into the shoulder to avoid me. I take a deep breath, restart my car, and slide it into drive, accelerating as fast as it will go.

I made it alive. Moreover, I made it thoroughly unscathed. I’m pretty emotionally beat up by this incident, but I’m perfectly healthy. I really don’t know who to thank – God? Fate? Michelin? I’m really really happy it was this late when this happened – if it were rush hour, I would be dead right now, and this journal entry would be much less here.
I’m still thoroughly spooked out. I hope I can sleep tonight. Thank you, to whoever deserves it. Whatever I might have said about my luck, I rescind. Thank you. I owe you one.

Malbec #4

Don Miguel Gascon Malbec 2004 – First of all, I’d like to give a shout-out to all my international wine-enthusiasts… wineaholics… they should really come up with a good word for “people who really really really like liquor”…  It’s nice to know that my fake wine reviews have global appeal.  And fittingly, this next wine is another Argentinian import.  In an impossibly tall bottle, this malbec is extremely dark in color, and extremely unadhesive in terms of feel.  It did not hold my painting up AT ALL.  However, it did go down pretty smoothely, though it lacked the certain yum-punch that several other of the malbecs have had.  This wasn’t an unenjoyable wine, and unlike the last malbec, this definitely tasted the part.  It just wasn’t the cream of the crop.  And at $10 a bottle, I expect it to be just that.  Still quite passable and a good alternative if you want something that comes in a tall bottle.  7/10

My first 8 Days of Work

Day 1: Came in late (at 10). Trained for about an hour. Started work. Left early (at 3)
Day 2: They repaired my computer which had been virused and installed $200 worth of software.  Suggested one of my best friends for a job here.
Day 3: Already doing what I will be doing full time. I begin training someone else.
Day 4: Work from home – wait all day for my phone to get hooked up. It doesn’t get hooked up until 4:45pm. Basically, I did nothing and was paid for it (boss was made aware that I did nothing) Office pays for the new phone line and installation.
Day 5: Come in. Train a new potential employee. He does my work (only one phone between us). I supervise the whole day. 1st office party after work. Much free alcohol.
Day 6: Back to normal work. 2nd office party after work. Much free alcohol. Stupidly nice 3-story “apartment” in the Upper West Side.
Day 7: Working from home. Wait until 2pm for my internet to get hooked up. Work for three hours. Work pays for the internet and hookup.  My friend that I suggested worked out an agreement and will be working here full time.
Day 8: In a meeting from 10pm until 4pm. Then we exchange office holiday gifts. I get liquor and porn.

I think I like my job.

Buzzy’s Doubles

This weekend was the Buzzy’s Doubles tournament.  As of the morning of I had no partner.  I was just going to show up and have some fun.  The weather was unseasonably beautiful, hitting 50 degrees.  Plus, JASON HAAAAAASS would be there.  You might remember him from my tour, when I stayed with his beautiful wife and him in Ohio.  Good people.

So I ended up partnering with Anne Yondolino in the burgeoning ‘mixed’ division.  There were five teams.  The first round was ‘best disc’, where both teammates throw and you simply pick the better shot and both throw your second shot from there.  Anne and I played miserably.  Actually, I played miserably and Anne did all right.  She carried my sorry ass all over that course.  We ended up -5, which was NOT great.  We were three strokes off the lead (Adam and Jeannie, my good friends, shot a solid -8)

The second round (starting immediately after the first) was an interesting format called “Second Marriage” (also called ‘choice’)  One player shoots, and if it’s good, you can take it and the second player never shoots.  If it’s not great, the second player shoots but you are MARRIED to that shot (you must take it no matter what)  This is some interesting strategy.  Anne stepped up to the plate, though, and played REALLY REALLY well.  She drove first on almost every hole, and for three straight holes, I didn’t touch a disc because her shots were good enough each time.  We ended up shooting a mirror image round of -5, making up three strokes and putting us in a tie with Adam and Jeannie (with 5 strokes separating us and the third place team)

After a short break, we played round three, which was a modified best disc round.  It’s normal best-disc, except you can’t use one person’s drive more than two holes in a row. I like this format and think it suits the mixed division well.  Finally, I took my head out of my arse and started throwing some decent shots.  I ended up hitting probably about 5 or 6 good putts on the tournament (missing four easy ones, but that still comes out ahead).  We ended up shooting a very solid -6, giving us a 4 stroke victory, and a super $35 each to pocket on our $10 investment.

It was a great day of fun, and most importantly, the TD Roach’s wife had suggested that everyone bring an unwrapped toy to donate to the battered women’s shelter that Buzzy’s always donates to.  It was a great tournament, and I’m glad we were able to do something good for Christmas (even if I brain farted and forgot a toy… I’ll donate extra during the ice bowl)

Up next?  Who knows?

My Dream Last Night

So at the start of my dream, there was a very large albatross on the street of some unnamed city.  I was almost immediately taken away to a “side-dream”, something completely unrelated.  It was at my old church and I remember very little of this part of the dream.  Then I went back to the other part, and I saw the albatross in this large bucket type thing plummeting into a very very deep well and splashing into some water at the bottom.

Right then, Iron Maiden music started playing.  As I scaled down the side ladders of the well, I noticed this beautiful woman also descending.  I pointed out to her that it’s funny they’re playing Maiden, because Maiden wrote “Rime of the Ancient Mariner”, a song based on the Coleridge poem.  (The albatross falls from his neck… sinks down like lead… into the sea)  She pointed out that this WASN’T that song, it was a slower song I’ve never heard of (though I recognized Bruce Dickinson’s vocals immediately)  She said, “Listen to the lyrics”  I did.  They were something like: “If you’re in danger, walk away.  Walk away.  Walk away.”  And suddenly I realized this was a trap.

I started to bolt up the ladders and I could see she was too, a little behind me.  When we were almost at the top, I could see an explosion below and I raced harder.  I knew I’d make it, but I didn’t know about her.  With one last burst of flames, she literally was blown out of the well.  She landed on the street in my arms.  I immediately knew who she was – she was this girl I’d met online in real life but hadn’t met in person (of course didn’t look like her, but it’s one of those oneiric conventions where even though they’re NOT the person, you know they are)

We soon were unfettered and hanging out with this man and this woman.  The man was some authoritative figure that I didn’t really like, and he was definitely hitting on my new woman.  I got the impression that Ashley was SUPPOSED to be with him (like they had been on a first date that night, or something like that), but I could tell she liked me and I liked her.  I think we even verbally confirmed it.  So I sorta acted uncommonly brazen for me.  And at one point, she was wearing this blanket to keep warm, and I was touching her knee under it.  The other woman, either jealous or trying to make sure I knew the man would NOT approve, said “I know your hand is under that blanket and on her knee,” and I turned around and confidently smiled, “I know.  That’s why I’m wiggling my fingers, in case both you didn’t notice.”

I woke up, pretty satisfied with myself there.