Day 1169 Boston

 

Monday night in Boston after a busy weekend... well, why not? It’s only because I’m a good sport that I happily went along with Tim’s plan to head into the city for some live music on a weeknight, him promising I could sleep on the drive home to rest up (while he took Tuesday off, thinking he’d be too tired).

We drove into the city, hitting surprisingly little traffic, found a rare parking spot along the street, and walked a few blocks to Loretta’s Last Call Country Bar for dinner—his choice again. Well, the joke ended up on him as they cleared the floor to make room for dance lessons, entertaining us throughout our meal.

I watched the country two-step lesson. Not being a fan of country music, I’ve never dipped my toes into that world, so I was curious to see what it was all about. I watched their feet and counted the movements, only to realize it’s really not much more than a backward foxtrot. Oddly enough, they had more men than women, so once again, being a good sport, I jumped in to partner up and had a ball dancing with strangers. 

After the lesson, a couple of the guys quickly took their places sitting along the side—intimidated to jump into the open dance floor or ask anyone to partner with them. I felt bad for them, but Tim reassured me with his profound words of wisdom: “Well, desperation is a great motivator.” Hopefully those guys will continue their lessons and one day be out there dancing the night away.

We packed up our country boots and headed over to the House of Blues for a show that was scheduled to start at 9 p.m.—like we’re a bunch of 20-year-olds! The first stop at the door was to show our IDs... to prove we were at least in our 20s...easy check. The next checkpoint was a metal detector, along with security searching my purse. I waited patiently while the woman poked and prodded through my pocketbook, checking out all the random items inside (I do carry a lot).

I watched as her eyes fixated on my small wooden pill box, followed by her asking me to take it out and open it. I obliged and revealed a variety of pills—different colors and sizes—and was then asked to identify each pill for her. Well… okay. The first was easy: Advil. The next, a tiny turquoise pill, I explained was an anti-diarrheal pill, since my husband has a J-pouch and needs them. The next was my progesterone pill, since I’m post-menopausal and take estrogen and progesterone for hormone replacement. At that point, the woman quickly waved her hand to stop me from continuing. Our eyes met, and we both burst out laughing. Through my laughter I said, “You asked!”

I finally entered the club, feeling confident about the three pills, though still a little unsure what the others were. Tim and I stood in front of the stage, grooving to the music until the band ended, thankfully not too late.  We made our drive home at almost a reasonable hour, arriving home by 1 a.m.—not ideal, but not too bad. I slept most of the drive then immediately climbed into bed once home. I went to sleep as quickly as I could, fully aware of my early morning meeting, while Tim will be sleeping in like a baby, enjoying his day off. 

All in all, it turned out to be a fun night, that will have us laughing for years to come. Perfect fall weather, a weeknight date with my man, dancing and entertainment.... Sometimes, saying yes, even on a Monday, leads to the best nights and certainly the best stories. 

“Life is like a country song — it’s got its ups and downs, but it’s best when you dance to it.” — Unknown