Mike Misses Valentine’s Day Dinner

As  my friends know, back in 2013, Her Majesty & I retired to a little cottage in Alabama, unfortunately 20 miles downwind from my Army buddy, Sam Pearson. The events of this past Valentine’s Day played out in and around this locale.

I left the house about about 0830, telling Her Majesty that I was going to get some tools & other stuff from Home Depot over in Pell City—or so I told her. On the way out the door I answered her query, “What time will you be home?” with, “probably about 1330; I’ll grab some chow at Mickey D’s, no need to make lunch.” At my rapidly retreating back she hollered, “Don’t forget it’s….” something or other.

Well, 1330 came & went; 1530 passed; 1815, still not home. Finally, at about 1900, I roll in the driveway and strolled in the front door. Her Majesty for some reason, appeared somewhat irate. “You missed our Valentine’s Day Dinner!; Where the h**l have you been you (insert noun for male of uncertain parentage <here>)?!” she growled, as only a former High School Principal can.

At that point I knew I was in deep sh….stuff. Instead of making excuses, I figured I’d try and plead out to a lesser included offense, so to speak. So, I put on my most contrite face and related the following:

I found everything I needed at Home Depot by about 1130, had lunch, and had started home, when alongside the road I saw this attractive girl with a flat tire on her car. Of course I stopped to help. After a bit of a struggle, I finally got the tire changed. She offered money, but I refused, so she suggested that I at least allow her to buy me a beer. 

She said, “There’s a tavern just up the road called ‘The Dog House,’ and they have a restroom where you can clean up a bit.” I agreed to stop, we had a beer, then another beer, then a couple more, and I realized that this girl was not only pretty, she was very friendly, and a good companion to spend time with. Before I knew it, we were in the motel next door, the one that rents rooms by the hour. And that is why I am so late getting home. I am truly sorry Sweetie. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me. (all the while with head down and puppy dog eyes).

Not even batting an eye, Her Majesty glared at me and snarled in that Principal’s voice,  “Don’t BS me you lying sack of doorknobs; YOU WENT HUNTING WITH THAT NE’ER DO WELL SAM PEARSON, DIDN’T YOU?“

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